The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin) novel Chapter 477

Malcolm's dark eyes lifted and gave him a cold look, picking up a task list on the table and throwing it at him.

He didn't move, and the paper pamphlet fell lightly onto his stomach and then slid to the floor.

"Look at it first."

Shane, who was puzzled, bent down and picked up the task list and turned it over carefully.

"This is my record for the last three months of missions. What do you mean?"

Malcolm put the cigarette on the table, and scolded him seriously, "Your attendance in the last month is obviously less than half of the previous two months. Shouldn't you give me an explanation?"

Shane knew he was looking for a trouble, so he could only bear the anger and explained, "Because my sister is sick, so I came home to be with her from time to time some time ago."

"Excuse."

With a stern scolding, Malcolm picked up the ashtray on the table and smashed it against his forehead.

The moment when the ashtray flew over, Shane's body almost instinctively reacted to dodge it.

The ashtray brushed past his ear and fell to the carpet behind him with a muffled thud. It was not broken.

"Hmm?"

Behind the table, Malcolm's eyebrows knitted unhappily, and his black eyes looked cold and hostile, which was a precursor to rage.

Shane stared at the metal sign that said "Director" on the table.

He tolerated and held back. Then he suppressed the anger in his chest, turned around and picked up the ashtray on the carpet and smashed it on his forehead in front of Malcolm.

The forehead soon became red, slightly swollen, but did not break the skin.

Malcolm admired his defeated expression and berated him seriously, "Melissa only went back to the Callahan family a week ago. It's only been about six or seven days, and you've had half the amount of assignments."

"It's obvious you are slacking on your work. You still assert eloquently, daring to use your sophistry to justify it."

"Shane Callahan, is it because I haven't asked about the things about bureau for too long that you are deliberately trying to provoke me?"

The moment as he finished his words, Malcolm picked up another teacup from the table and smashed it at him.

This time, Shane resisted the urge to dodge and didn't move.

The teacup just smashed into the swollen injury he just knocked himself on. With the two injuries overlapped, the skin of the forehead was scraped, slightly oozing blood.

Shane furrowed his eyebrows, and, holding back the sharp pain in his forehead, respectfully replied, "Mr. Malcolm, you have a penetrating judgment. I dare not."

"You have your own judgement. Whether you dare or not, we all know it."

Malcolm has always had a reputation for ruthlessness, and in the last year, because of his wife's control, his hostility had been curbed a lot.

He was ordered by his wife to fix Shane, and he was happy to do so.

And, he had long wanted to teach Shane this son of bitch a lesson. Shane was good at making a pretence, bullied the weak and feared the strong, and a control freak.

He rubbed the watch on his wrist and asked in a cold tone, "Today, you are punished for slacking and laziness. And you try to defend yourself and escape from the crime. Do you admit it?"

Shane's hands were behind his back. His fists clenched fiercely, with veins bulging.

Malcolm got more power than him so he could force him to submit.

He was always indignant, but could only admit, "I admit and I am willing to accept any discipline."

Malcolm stared at him in a scheming manner, "There must be discipline naturally. I still have time this afternoon. I would be happy to personally correct the rules for the deputy director of National Investigation Bureau."

Shane raised his eyes imperceptibly and looked at Malcolm, keenly detecting a hint of danger in his eyes.

Malcolm straightened his uniform collar, stood up slowly, walked around the table, and stood in front of Shane.

He was taller than Shane and had a strong aura. It was the overbearing and intimidating presence as a superior.

"Take off your uniform jacket."

Shane was puzzled and stared at him for a while, but finally obeyed and obediently took off his jacket, folded it neatly and put it on the couch in a disciplined manner.

After doing this, Shane walked back to his original position and regained his footing.