Some of the servants stood aside quietly while others stealthily resumed their duty.
Darren was hot under the collar. Immediately, he called Gareth and rebuked head-on when the call got through, “Brat, how dare you pick my roses? Those roses were for your grandma. Why didn’t you fu*king buy the roses from the florist?! And you ruined my rose shrubs! What are you going to do with those roses? You don’t even have a girlfriend! Why did you fu*king pick my roses, and it’s not even Valentine’s Day?!”
Rage got the best of Old Mr.Wickam. He railed at Gareth at the top of his lungs.
After lashing out at Gareth, Darren thought Gareth would explain himself, but to his surprise, there was no sound from the other side of the call.
“Didn’t you hear what I said, brat!?”
Darren’s tone was seething with acid even though he tried to stifle his bristling rage.
Gareth uttered indifferently, “I’m in a meeting, and my phone is being cast on screen.”
The entire conference room fell into awkward silence.
The people in the meeting were caught in a daze after hearing Old Mr. Wickam’s words until Gareth’s voice nudged them back to their senses.
They knew that Old Mr. Wickam was short-tempered, but hearing him spewing swear words still took them off their guard.
But most importantly, they were surprised to know that Old Mr. Wickam planted roses for his wife.
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