Spoiled By The President: My Wife Is A Little Sweet novel Chapter 917

Chapter 917 The Person Behind the Scene

Next to him was a low table, on which burned a censer, in which the finest agarwood burned quietly, giving off a dark and pleasant smell.

After his subordinate finished reporting, he stopped waving the folding fan in his hand.

He said lightly, "So, they've taken over the Zircon Association's land?"

His subordinate slightly bowed his head and replied respectfully, "Yes."

He said, looking at his master as if puzzled.

"We never quite understood, Sir, that if you took on the Zircon Association, why don't you…"

The man smiled.

There was an inscrutable radiance on that handsome face.

He said, "Am I short of money?"

His subordinate was stunned.

Although he did not know how much money he had, it was obvious that he had a lot.

So, he shook his head.

The man asked again, "Does the Zaccardi Family need to other external things to prove its power and competence?"

His subordinate shook his head again.

"If we don't need anything, why should I fight with them?"

As he said this, the subordinate seemed to understand something, but seemed to understand even less.

"But all the things you've done this time…"

"I have my reasons."

The man said that he waved his hand. The subordinate saw this and did not dare to ask too much, so he retreated.

After he left, the man sat there for a while until a servant came in and whispered to him, "Mr. York Zaccardi is here."

He nodded and got up and went out.

In the quiet room, the decoration was very sedate and primitive.

When he walked in, there was already another person in the room.

The man was wearing a dark suit and looked in his fifties or sixties. Seeing him, the man bent down respectfully and said quietly, "There you are, Sir."

Clinton Zaccardi looked at York Zaccardi.

He held a string of beads between his fingers and rubbed them one by one. "Take a seat." He said.

York Zaccardi sat down quickly.

It was hard to imagine that The Zaccardi patriarch, so noble to outsiders, would grovel and bow before a man who looked at least 20 years his junior.

They sat opposite each other in front of a set of antique tea trays.

Clinton Zaccardi reached out to make tea slowly. York Zaccardi noticed that the hands in front of him were slender and white, like perfect strands of white bamboo, unlike those of a man.

He was almost dazed until Clinton Zaccardi began to speak.

"Is everything all right in the family?"

York Zaccardi replied quickly, "Everything is fine. I told them everything you told me. Everything is as you said."

Clinton Zaccardi nodded.

He raised his hand and made York Zaccardi a cup of tea himself.