Goodbye, My Love

Carl was known for his reliability and patience while working with

Marco, but beneath his affable exterior, he was ruthless towards those who crossed him.

Having been insulted by Marina, even Marco’s plea for patience couldn’t subdue Carl’s flare-up. He sneered, ripped off his CEO’s assistant badge from his chest, and threw it onto the floor.

“Bryant Group? Without Mr. Bryant, how long will its glory last? You won’t need to fire me. If Mr. Bryant is gone, I refuse to serve as your assistant!”

Marina was further incensed by his words. She leapt up from her chair, jabbing a finger towards Carl’s face, and after a moment’s pause, shouted, “You… how dare you? If you defy me, don’t expect to receive your salary this month. Leave Bryant Group immediately!”

Marco observed this spectacle with aloofness, letting out a cold chuckle.

If Marina continued to act impetuously and despotically as CEO, she would inevitably run Bryant Group into the ground, perhaps even faster than he had predicted.

But that was no longer his problem.

He glanced around, his gaze landing on a photo resting on the desk, a picture of Loraine that he had specifically placed there. It was for this photo that he had come here.

Nothing else mattered to him, but when it came to Loraine, he had to take the picture with him.

Marco was about to grasp it, but to his astonishment, Marina, in her fury, snatched the photo from his grasp.

Marco was taken aback.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

“Marina, what do you think you’re doing?” This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“What am I doing? I’m about to teach your loyal lackey a lesson!”

Marina, still seething, raised her hand to hurl the photo at Carl.

Marco wanted to intervene, but it was too late.

The carefully framed picture soared in an arc towards Carl. Naturally,

Carl didn’t just stand there and let himself be struck. He swiftly dodged.

With a cracking sound, the frame collided with the floor, the glass instantly fracturing into shards.

Everyone fell silent. Carl wanted to say something, but upon seeing

Marco’s somber and unreadable face, he held his tongue. He tactfully stepped aside, all too familiar with Marco’s countenance when he was incensed.

Marco’s face darkened, his gaze as frosty as if it could freeze.

The shattered shards had inevitably left a few scratches on the photo.