Martin Weiss thought about Kyla Corbynâs messy hair, bruised face, and thin figure all night. He could not get the image out of his mind.
âWhatâs wrong with me? Why am I thinking about Kyla Corbyn so much these days?â
Once she handed Nelson to him in three months, he would have nothing to do with this woman anymore!
âChairman Ye? What do you think of this proposal? Chairman Ye?â His subordinateâs voice suddenly interrupted his trance, and he finally came back to his senses. He saw that he was in a meeting room where he was in a meeting with the companyâs senior management.
âIâll look over this proposal and discuss it later. Letâs dismiss the meeting first,â said Martin Weiss.
âDismiss?â
The senior executives looked at each other. âDidnât he say the proposal has to be perfected in todayâs meeting?â
However, since their boss had already said so, then the others had nothing else to say.
They gathered their papers and filed out.
Finally, Martin Weiss said to the secretary nearby, âYou get out too. I want to be alone.â
âYes,â the secretary replied.
When only Martin Weiss was left in the meeting room, a trace of fatigue and struggle finally appeared on his face. He raised his hand and covered his forehead. âKyla Corbynâ¦â His thin lips uttered the name through clenched teeth, but it sounded aggrieved.
Kyla Corbyn was lying in bed, barely wanting to move.
Although the hospital had said she only had superficial wounds, every bone of and every inch of her muscle were in pain right now.
The doorbell rang. âDid Mom leave her keys behind?â
Kyla Corbyn struggled to open her eyes and then shuffled to get out of bed. However, as soon as her feet touched the ground, her legs gave way and she nearly fell over.
Sure enough⦠her body was unlike before!
Even when she was beaten in prison previously, she would not be this weak the next day.
The doorbell continued to ring, and it sounded urgent. Kyla Corbyn went to the door and opened it. However, she did not expect to see Martin Weiss.
For a moment, she was a little stunned.
Martin Weiss stared at Kyla Corbyn with displeasure. âWhy did you take so long to open the door?â
Kyla Corbyn had the urge to laugh. âMr. Weiss, this is my home. I can open the door whenever I want. I can even choose not to open the door.â
He pressed his thin lips together tightly and looked at her with those deep penetrating eyes.
Her face was not as bruised and swollen as the night before, but she looked very pale. She was wearing worn-out pajamas, and her hair was a little unkempt. She had obviously been sleeping earlier.
Martin Weiss stretched his long legs and walked into the house.
Kyla Corbyn said, âThis is my home. I didnât allow you to come in, did I? Please get out!â
âYour home?â Martin Weiss suddenly smiled sarcastically.
âBelieve it or not, I can ask the landlord to break the contract and rent the house to me right away.
What you call âyour homeâ can become âmy homeâ right away.â