She had admitted defeat.
Going head-to-head with this man, there was never a good outcome.
Qin Mo opened the car door and sat down, deliberately distancing herself from the man.
Chu Yiqin glanced at her indifferently, his lips pursed tighter, "Drive."
Ying Yao felt a chill that sent shivers down his spine. He steadied his mind and kept his focus, driving steadily.
They soon arrived at the entrance of the Chu Consortium.
Qin Mo gripped the seat, her voice slightly tense, "President Chu, you go ahead, I'll take the elevator from the parking lot in a while."
No sooner had she finished speaking than her wrist was seized by a large, dry, warm, and stubbornly domineering hand.
"Deliberately avoiding me?"
Qin Mo pursed her lips and swallowed.
"Not talking? I'll take it as you agree." Chu Yiqin's eyes shrouded in a picturesque mist; he exerted force on his hand, pulling her toward him.