"Lawyer Locke, what you said, how many new era women come home early?"
"These days, coming home early means you're poor."
"So... am I poor?" Andrew Locke followed Nora Hart's flawed logic.
Nolan was startled when he heard Andrew Locke say this while handing over a tray of water.
Mr. Locke poor?
Can't agree.
Who doesn't know who the magnate of Capital Port is?
"Picking a quarrel with me? Should I leave?"
"Go ahead!" Andrew Locke raised his chin slightly: "Dare to go out, and I'll break your legs."
Nora Hart followed Andrew's gaze downwards and saw the scoundrel staring at her legs; she unconsciously moved her legs and muttered, "Pervert."
Just as Nora Hart was about to go upstairs, she remembered something, retracted her foot ready to step up, and cozied up to Andrew Locke with a smile, her slender and white arms resting on the dining bar: "Boss Locke, I have a question for you."
Andrew Locke succinctly threw out a word: "Speak."