Despite being at death’s door just a mont ago,
the next second, as Third Young Master Jun appeared in the hall, his entire presence had undergone an earth-shattering transformation.
Even though his complexion was pale, it couldn’t hide his naturally majestic and haughty deanor, a sovereign’s aura that looked down on everything.
Ivanov and his daughter, Yiren, walked into the hall through the storm.
Originally, they exuded a desolate indifference to the storm, bringing their interests with them, along with ample confidence. Thus, their strides bore the wind, chins uplifted, and in their eyes was the easy arrogance of certain victory, their imposing manner daunting.
Yiren was in great spirits, as if she were the savior descending upon them, her lips revealing an unstoppable smugness.
She had expected to see Third Young Master Jun in a state of defeat and anxiety, relishing the pride of seeing this arrogant man bow his head and beg for her help.
But upon entering this bright and cold hall, both she and Ivanov showed expressions of astonishnt.
Third Young Master Jun sat lazily in his chair, his face devoid of any hint of panic or despondency.
His sharp intelligence and practiced composure, his hands with distinct joints casually resting on the armrests, his thin lips bore a faint smile that suggested control over everything, his long, narrow phoenix eyes with slightly upturned corners exuded the domineering air of a ruler who oversaw all.
His attitude was so arrogant, his gaze so lofty, not as if he was greeting guests, but more like a king summoning his subjects.
Yiren’s eyes were wide with astonishnt, her heart violently shaken, as much by his unrivaled elegance in the face of this desperate situation as by the disdain from him that kindled her indignation and rage.
What was going on? They were the guests, the ones who ca to save his life, and yet he had the gall to display such an attitude.
Ivanov, well-maintained, his worldly face slightly rosy, showed a bit of displeasure. As a business tycoon who shook the world, even the president of his country was his friend, and he received respect in his every action; other politicians and businessn not as powerful as he always cringed before him, filled with fear.
And here was this re youth, looking down on him as if he should be beneath him.
It was utterly arrogant and displeasing.
But what displeased him the most in his heart was that under those intimidating eyes, he felt an imnse pressure that hindered his ability to exert the aura of a munitions magnate.
Quite the Third Young Master Jun, no wonder even Su Feiman regarded him with such apprehension; he indeed had so nerve.
"Please take a seat," Lie Feng gestured with his hand.
And there, seated in the superior position, Third Young Master Jun smiled slightly, not uttering a word of greeting from beginning to end.
Ivanov suppressed his irritation. With such an attitude, who exactly was begging whom for help? It seed as if they were the ones imposing themselves. Although, indeed, that was the case.
But they had originally thought they were the ones in control, ant to be high above, expecting the other party to co begging humbly.
Then, they could arrogantly put forth harsh conditions, forcing him to agree.
After all, it was this man in front of them who was desperate, not them, right?
"Daddy..." Yiren knew Ivanov was displeased and quickly reached out to soothe him, exchanging a look that ant, we’re well-prepared, he’ll have to beg us later, and we’ll regain our dignity for sure.
Ivanov grunted in acknowledgnt, his heart slightly eased. He looked forward to the mont when Third Young Master would ask for munitions, and he would get to humiliate him for his rudeness.
"Third Young Master seems to be injured?" Yiren approached him with concern, handing him a glass of water, her beautiful eyes examining him. However, she couldn’t help but wonder inwardly, wasn’t Third Young Master Jun shot last night? Even if the bullet wound wasn’t as severe as imagined, he shouldn’t look this at ease!
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