He seemed unable to make a decision.
The owner of the car should be at the back.
Deanna instinctively looked over and saw a man sitting in the back seat, wearing a smart black suit, with extraordinarily attractive features that gave off a dangerous charm. His whole aura exuded nobility, making it impossible to ignore.
However, his lips were very pale, suggesting he might be unwell, with his eyes closed as if resting.
Next to the man was a young man with gold-rimmed spectacles, looking mature and steady, with a calculating gleam in his eyes and a worried expression on his brow.
He spoke, "Larry, give this young lady your card, we'll discuss compensation later. First, take Mr. Mercer to Old Hughes's place. Let's not waste any more time here."
As they talked, Deanna approached the car and, relying on her acute sense of smell, caught a whiff of blood coming from inside the vehicle.
She couldn't help but frown, guessing that the man in the car was injured. She couldn't help but look at him a bit more. At a glance, this man was clearly not someone to be trifled with.
In the car, Lance raised an eyebrow, sensing the prying eyes from the side.
He slowly opened his eyes, which were cold and sharp, and stared daggers at her.
Deanna had never seen eyes so cold. Her body couldn't help but shiver involuntarily. She quickly withdrew her gaze, feeling a bit suspicious. This man seemed familiar.
Before she could think further, she heard the driver respond, "Yes."
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