This action was cruel to the extreme.
Joan Harry's heart skipped a beat. She clenched her teeth and stayed silent.
She wasn't someone who excelled at arguments. As for resorting to physical action, Jesse Rowan was the only person she had ever done so with.
Now that Jesse Rowan was furious, she was practically defenseless.
She stood there quietly, saying nothing, her face pale—as lifeless as a doll.
Jesse Rowan clapped his hands, brushing off the cake crumbs, his posture both cold and indifferent.
He picked up the newspaper again, crossed his legs, and casually sipped his wine. His tone, however, was as icy as frost—
"Even saints have tempers. Joan Harry, for someone like me with such a good temper to be provoked to this extent, you must be rather skilled."
"Jesse Rowan, starting tomorrow, I'm going out to work. I won't remain in Koi Garden anymore." Joan Harry seemed to muster all her courage to say this calmly.
