Atlas Hallow's handsome face turned extremely pale, and his burning eyes looked at Charlotte Miller, noticing the icy coldness in her eyes. He felt as if a bone had been removed from his body, making it difficult for him to stand up due to the pain.
He didn't even dare to look at her eyes that held not only indifference but also clear resentment.
"Who is he? Jack Smith?" Atlas Hallow asked, his eyes filled with a murderous rage, genuinely feeling the impulse to kill someone.
"Wrong, I don't need to account for this to you. I've already said that in private we have no connection whatsoever, and in public, there is no possibility of collaboration between us. You can leave now," Charlotte Miller coldly issued the order to leave.
Atlas Hallow looked down from above at the woman sitting in the sofa. She wore a loose-fitting lake-blue cotton-linen pajama, her hair was slightly messy, and her small feet were bare, yet it didn't conceal her powerful presence.
