His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 1444 What Kind of Tricks Could a Man Possibly Have?_1

Chapter 1444: Chapter 1444 What Kind of Tricks Could a Man Possibly Have?_1

Chapter 1444

She remembered that Charles Carrington had always disliked hearing her talk about other men, including Damien Hart.

But now, he had personally orchestrated all this. Probably because love no longer mattered to him, so he didn’t care anymore.

Her bright eyes darkened a little as she turned to look at the man behind her.

"Is this your idea of a surprise?"

"Don’t you like it?" his expression was lazy and indifferent.

"It’s just this? I can see him anytime I want. If you really want to surprise me, get the real person here, so I can talk to him, have meals with him every day."

As she quietly and slowly uttered these words, it was as if she was sawing off the single wooden bridge that the man was standing on.

She was the one sawing, he was the bridge.

Every additional word was a test of his bearing capacity.

Layla Lowell was not sure what was running through his mind, but she felt as if his deep, penetrating gaze had subdued her provocative attitude.

She lost the mood to argue and turned towards the door: "Never mind, goodbye."

Suddenly her wrist tightened, and she was pulled back, her back against his chest.

His hands encircled her waist, creating a powerful barrier.

"Let go." She tried to suppress the rising anger in her voice.

He lowered his head to smell her hair, and his deep eyes reflected profound contemplation.

After a while, his arms relaxed, releasing her.

As she was about to leave, he blocked her way.

"If you don’t like it, think of it as something I bought for Dawn. The password is your birthday. You can change it any way you want. Now, you’re the owner, I’ll leave."

He gave a faint smile, looking every bit the suave gentleman as he grabbed his coat and strode out.

Layla Lowell stared at his retreating figure, feeling as if her legs were rooted to the spot, unable to move.

The sound of the door closing echoed through the entryway, and then all was silent.

She felt a sudden overwhelming sense of loneliness that not even seeing her idol’s face could alleviate.

What she didn’t know was that Charles Carrington had only taken the elevator down one floor and then stopped.

He casually walked out of the elevator and directly into the apartment below his.

The two apartments were on top of each other.

He opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of ice water, drank half of it, and turned to see the billboard outside the window. Disdain in his eyes, he strode over and closed the curtains.

The phone on the table suddenly lit up with the name "Ms. Rocker" clearly visible.

His eyes were indifferent as he continued drinking the water, his movements slow and unhurried.

But the phone on the table vibrated slowly towards the edge, about to fall off.

In an instant, a handsome hand caught it, sliding to hang up the call.

A short while later, it rang again.

He showed a slight hint of irritation between his brows.

"What’s the matter, Ms. Rocker?"

There was silence on the other end.

A few seconds later—

"Charles, are you still mad at me?"

"If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up." His voice was incredibly cold, his handsome face frosty.

"Charles!" The female voice was filled with urgency.

He stopped and fell silent.

"I’ve heard about what happened over there, and since you really don’t like doing business, I won’t force you anymore. I want to tell you that whatever you want to do in the future, go ahead and do it. I will fully support you."

"Oh, thanks, Ms. Rocker."

"Charles, do you have to be angry with me? I’m your mother."

"Mother?" His voice was mixed with a hint of laughter.