He broke out in a thin layer of cold sweat but forced a smile. "Women like to play little games, President Steele. You don't have to take it too seriously."
"Games?" Victor raised an eyebrow, as if hearing a completely foreign concept.
"Yes, yes," Steven Han nodded vigorously. "Just say something nice to her. She'll calm down."
Victor frowned, clearly unconvinced, but too proud to keep asking. "I understand. You can go."
Steven Han fled the office like a man escaping a fire.
Left alone, Victor stared at the papers on his desk for a long time, but none of the words sank in. Finally, he gave up, took out his phone, and opened WeChat.
He dropped a message into their group chat.
"It's urgent. Come out."
He kept tapping the screen impatiently while waiting.
The first reply popped up from Charles Monroe, the so-called youngest brother in their tight-knit group.
Charles: "Second brother is in trouble? Amazing! Quick, everyone, bring out the firecrackers! I'll celebrate first!"
