Little Runaway Wife: President, Please Stop

He wrote a string of neat English, and the attendant next to him immediately bowed out.

"When you promise, there is no room for regret," he said faintly, with one hand on the back of the imperial concubine's couch and a cigar in the other hand.

The man was wearing a dark blue shirt, a pair of slender hands clenched slightly, and there were strong and almost murderous eyes in his dark brown eyes.

He will slowly become strong, slowly become strong enough.

Just as the waiter went out, the old man got up. He had not finished smoking a cigarette. He bent down and rubbed out the cigarette end in the crystal ashtray.

The dark gray suit coat is open, and the hidden blue shirt inside, his action is noble and elegant.

"15 minutes, make your last farewell," the man straightened up, "get ready for your new life."

Then he went to the door, and the bodyguards behind him opened the door for him.

There were only young men and five bodyguards left in the room.

He clenched his long white hand with scars.

Ye Qingcheng was suspended in the air and looked at the crowd below.

"Five million!"

"15 million!"

"Fuck, 40 million!"

Several men with fierce faces kept shouting and even pushing and shoving below.

"100 million! Mine! Don't rob her mother with me!"

"I - Fuck, 100 million?! Mom - I'll catch up with the whole family, 200 million!"

"Is there 200 million left?"

"200 million first time -"

"5 billion!"

The mellow male voice came from the corner. Ye Qingcheng also looked down slightly. He was a young man, a white shirt, a black vest, a stiff bow tie and a servant.

At this time, the young man stepped forward and stood under the platform, "5 billion, our young master wants it."

"Fuck - you - shit, who's your young master?!"

"Let your young master get out! 5 billion?! fuck, this woman is worth 5 billion?!"

The next few strong men were not happy at once. They pushed and shooed. The young waiter had a good upbringing and didn't argue with these people——

Because it's a black market for underground trading, these people are either on the * * * * market, or they don't want to die, or they work for their own masters.

It's usually real.

The waiter stood below with a calm expression on his face.

The man in Zhongshan suit standing above took the check, looked at the signature on it and frowned slightly. It seems that he has not seen this group of names?

"Your signature... Sure?" the man in Zhongshan suit bent down slightly and asked.

"Hahaha, this turtle grandson fooled around with a fake check?!"

"Fuck, let's die! 200 million, this woman 200 million is mine!"

Just when the people below coaxed again, a young man in a white shirt came behind the man in Zhongshan suit, attached to his ear and said, "Sir, 5 billion has been remitted."

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