The woman stopped laughing and called out timidly, "Young Master Saxon..."
Her delicate voice carried a mix of unease, fear, and a servile attempt to please.
"What I like most about you is your understanding of your own identity, knowing your place. But now it seems you've changed." The deep and languid voice sounded casual, as if discussing the weather, yet the overly indifferent tone sent a shiver down one's spine.
The woman's voice grew increasingly fearful and uneasy, "Young Master Saxon, I... I was wrong... I'll never dare again..."
"With me, you only get one chance." The man's voice suddenly turned cold, filled with a ruthless chill, "Secretary Ayles will give you the compensation you deserve, you may leave."
The voice was so indifferent it lacked any warmth, starkly different from the intimate whispers moments ago, as if spoken by another person.
A brief silence fell, faintly accompanied by sobbing, laden with grievance, sadness, and regret.
Outside the office.
