Vivia Fuller's expression was like a stagnant pool of water, and her eyes closed as she fainted from fear.
Liam Cloud's eyes shifted as he curled his lips, the gun in his hand spun in an arc, and he tossed it onto the table, picking up a tissue and deliberately wiping the bloodstains on his hands.
"Drag her out and wake her up, give her a lesson, and toss her along with the recording pen to Waylon Lewis."
He couldn't be bothered to clean up this mess; he only wanted to prove his innocence to avoid implicating Hope Williams.
Nothing else was his concern.
"Should someone go and inform Sister Hope?"
Liam Cloud's gaze softened, and he lightly raised his eyebrows. "I'll go myself."
After having done such a formidable thing, how could he let others take credit for inviting praise?
His subordinate felt that for such a trivial matter, the Big Boss shouldn't have to do it himself.
Eager to offer his service, he said, "Big Boss, I can go for you for such a small thing."