Catherine's voice wasn't loud, but she chided them, “If you can let anyone in, why will I need the locks?”

“What did you lose, Ms. Collins?” the person on duty asked, shocked. “You'd better check the surveillance video yourself. Block those people from our community in the past. If this happened again, you wouldn't be able to bear the consequences. Don't think of getting a penny from me.”

She ended the call angrily, but it was just a way to vent her anger. Linda stared at her, looking pale.

“Stay here tonight, Linda.” Catherine looked at her and softened her tone. “Don’t go home.” She believed Linda needed to be consoled. “Sorry, Catherine,” Linda sobbed apologetically, “I shouldn't have opened the door without checking the peephole. I thought it was you.” “It's not your fault. Stop blaming yourself.” Catherine was sober. “Since they wanted to do so, they would definitely find me. It was just a matter of time.”

“Which company are they from? How's your pay and benefits?” Linda was indeed young and naive.

Catherine answered, “From the R-Alan Group.”

“The R-Alan Group?” Linda's heart sank, and she widened her eyes. “They are the foe of the Marsh Group. If you work for them, what... what about Mr. Marsh?”

Catherine stood up. “It's late. You should go to bed. I'm also exhausted.” Then she entered her bedroom. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Linda was indeed upset, wondering why things had become like this. In the basement parking lot, a black SUV was leaving. The man in the lead put the files into the folder and dialed his boss’ phone number. “Hello, Mr. Eastwood. It's done.”

“When will she come to work?" Leslie Eastwood asked.

“It's said tomorrow on the agreement. I also reminded her about it. She would have to pay the penalty if she didn't show up.”

Leslie was overjoyed. He

black SUV vanished

Another apartment.

emails while sitting on the sofa next to the window, his slender fingers dancing on

stretched, almost

spirited. “Dude, you don't have a

“Stop calling me dude. I don't like it. You sound like

the way to address him. “Ahem... Dear Finnley,

voice brought goosebumps to

“I'll sleep on the couch.” Then he put away his book, glanced at her, and walked into

wondered if she had misheard as she couldn't

freak who had good taste. How

air

had guests before, so he didn't have a guest

The night darkened.

storm continued

to battle against sleepiness. She closed the door, lock from the inside, and huddled up in Finnley’s

a

searching for another apartment and uploaded it to a

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