Hold On Mr.! Your Sweetheart is a Real Queen

Chapter 209: Chapter 209: "Daisy Ginger, I need an explanation.

Oliver Rubio’s cold sweat started to drip down.

Edward Stephens watched his expression, his tone slightly somber: "Do you understand what I mean?"

Oliver stood up, his head full of cold sweat, avoiding Edward’s gaze as he lowered his head, "Young Master Wen, Director Ginger is your wife, her... matters, it’s better if you ask her personally."

Edward raised his eyebrows slightly, "Do you not plan to tell me?"

Oliver braced himself and looked at her, "I signed the company’s confidentiality agreement. If any confidential information is exposed, I’ll face a lawsuit."

"Don’t beat around the bush with me." Edward leaned back in his chair, "You know what I mean. If you don’t tell me now, I’ll call Daisy Ginger later and tell her I’m displeased with you, and ask her to fire you."

Oliver: "..."

Is he seriously doing this?

Oliver said helplessly, "Director Ginger hasn’t really done anything, but there is one thing that I found quite odd."

Edward’s eyes flickered slightly, squinting at him, "Hmm?"

been bothering him for some time, but he also felt relieved telling Edward, "The medication is potent, one pill can last about twenty-four hours, and the pharmacy prescribes them sparingly. A pill a day would last half a month, but these days, Director Ginger has been asking me to get a prescription from the doctor every three

glanced at Edward, "I didn’t dare to ask, Young Master Wen. Is there something wrong

A leg injury?

put away the crutches and could

be the

day, yet she was secretly taking painkillers behind his back as if they were candies, which

couldn’t figure out what was going on inside Daisy Ginger’s head. If she felt unwell and needed to see a doctor,

exactly is she hiding

for this

speaking, he stood

Edward’s gloomy back, and couldn’t help but wipe

Could it be...

going to be fired by

*

returned home and saw Edward Stephens sitting

man’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck

patted her waist, "Go wash your hands, dinner’s almost