This rain had been falling continuously for several days.
By Friday, it finally stopped.
The sky was a clear, washed-out blue, and the faint fragrance of fresh grass lingered in the air.
Jesse Rowan's visits to the Cheney Family building were becoming more frequent. Every time he went, Charles Mcintosh accompanied him.
On this particular day, Charles handed over some contracts and documents to him.
Jesse sat on the sofa, holding a coffee cup in one hand while lightly tapping the table with the other.
"Mr. Mcintosh, where's your Mr. Cheney? Why haven't I seen him even once? I'm quite curious. Now that the Cheney Family is mine, where has Mr. Cheney gone?"
Charles kept his head down, organizing the documents, barely paying attention to him. He responded coldly, "Mr. Cheney's matters don't seem to concern Mr. Rowan."
"Why are you so dull? Let's chat a bit; otherwise, how do two grown men just sit here staring at each other?"
