Snow Jiang inhaled sharply to calm her nerves, then she walked to the side of the car where Adrian was sitting. She opened the door, sliding her hand around his waist, and pulled him out of the car.
"Mrs. Qinn, let me help you." The Chauffeur hurried to their side.
"Don't worry, I can carry him." Snow Jiang said, inhaling heavily in between words.
The chauffeur stepped back, before leading the way to the penthouse.
Halfway to the entrance, Snow Jiang's breath became ragged, cursing in her mind how Adrian's weight was too much.
The door opened and the man around the age of fifty stood with his hands in back of him. His eyes grew alarmed the moment they landed on Adrian's pale face.
The man's voice cracked the silence like glass. His face, which had been composed and stern, immediately shifted into alarm as he rushed forward. "Mr. Qinn," he repeated, this time with urgency. "What happened to him?"
