Looking at the few banknotes fluttering down on himself, Zachary Armstrong raised his head and slowly said to the man in front of him, "Although I like money, I don't like others throwing money on my face."
Shirley Fisher was speechless, turned her head away not to look at him anymore, though she was still on the verge of going crazy, she could clearly sense the atmosphere in the room was a bit off.
Zachary Armstrong didn't delve further, put on his pants and picked up a few hundred-buck bills, unceremoniously stuffed them into his own pocket: "Although I'm someone who's captivated by money, I'm also someone with principles, surely you are aware of that, that's why I'll serve you thoroughly, definitely make you feel it's worth the money."
Shirley Fisher's ear roots itched, and it was only after Zachary whispered these words by her ear that she realized she had given him too much money in a rash moment, this way, he had another excuse to stay here without leaving.
