Toot toot...

The man held the phone that was hung up, his eyes light and cold. His eyebrows revealed a reserved detachment, and then he put down the phone and looked up calmly: "Continue."

"Frank, aren't you calling Christine? Why did she stand you up?" Mason said so, half teasingly lying back on the rocking chair.

Even at midnight, there was no trace of fatigue in his eyes, but rather his eyes revealed the excitement of a hunting leopard.

The entire conference room was full of acquaintances, and only a few people know about the M&R project. So there's naturally no taboo when it came to speaking.

Franklin saw the corner of Mason's mouth curled up a hint of sarcasm. He was not angry. He just casually and lazily lit a cigarette, took a puff, and placed his eyes on Mason's face, slightly raising his eyebrows and said: "You've finished the confrontation with The Blacks!"

"Fuck, Frank, you love to pinch people seven inches!" Mason saw that Frankin's words were tart and hit the nail on the head. He was also irritated to light up a cigarette.