Wait, She’s a Billionaire (Sheena Lawson) novel Chapter 934

Chapter 934 

“Yes, Mr. Jenkins,” Romello replied. 

This task was not particularly challenging for Romello, who had undergone rigorous training and had an excellent physique. He immediately bent down, bracing his arms firmly, and began doing push–ups quickly and with precision. 

Elliot looked at Romello from above, observing silently as Romello performed the 

exercise. 

The office was unusually quiet, with only the occasional heavy breathing from Romello breaking the silence. 

After estimating about a hundred push–ups, Elliot asked, “How many was that?” 

Romello paused, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. 

He effortlessly replied, “One hundred and seven.” 

Elliot scoffed. “So, you can speak. Why didn’t you count out loud?” 

Confused, Romello raised his eyes to him. 

Elliot had not asked him to count out loud. 

Elliot remained silent, his obsidian eyes emanating an intimidating pressure. 

Resigned, Romello resumed doing push–ups and began counting aloud. 

“One hundred and eight.” 

“You stopped just now. Start over again.” 

Romello was annoyed. 

It seemed like it would not be easy to get this over with. 

Suppressing his frustration, Romello obediently restarted counting from the beginning. 

Elliot leisurely watched him for a while, then walked to his desk, poured himself a cup of tea, and leaned back, sipping it lazily. 

He listened to Romello’s increasingly strained counting while enjoying his tea. 

The office temperature was normal, and it was rather comfortable. 

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Elliot turned on the heater and adjusted the temperature to thirty degrees Celsius. 

He removed his military jacket, revealing a thin white shirt with rolled–up sleeves that exposed his arms. 

He then added a couple of ice cubes to his tea for an enjoyable cooling drink. 

“Three hundred and forty–five…” 

Romello’s entire body was drenched in sweat, with droplets collecting on his nose and chin, leaving a puddle on the floor in front of him. 

As the temperature rose and the counting continued, the task became even more challenging. 

Romello felt thirsty and sweaty, his palms pressing against the ground, feeling slightly unsteady. He had to concentrate all his attention and stabilize his posture to avoid. awkwardly collapsing to the floor. 

It was a punishing ordeal. 

Moreover, with the injury on his forehead, the salty sweat stung as it seeped into the wound, making his head spin slightly. 

He silently noted this as another mark against Elliot but dared not pause his movements. 

“Four hundred…” 

Romello panted as he finished counting, a sense of relief washing over him. He regained his composure, standing up straight with his hands behind his back once again. 

Elliot gracefully set down his teacup, assessing Romello’s labored state with a smirk. 

“It’s just a few hundred push–ups and you’re already struggling and drenched in sweat. It seems your physical fitness has declined recently.”