Isabella Weaver's heart skipped a beat.
His gaze was so deep, his voice so deep, his tone so earnest!
Isn't this supposed to be an act?
Why does it feel so real?
Could it be that this man's acting skills are just that good?
Isabella Weaver hesitated a little, the plot development had surpassed her expectations, and she was a bit uncertain about whether to help him with this or not.
Harry Hunter saw her hesitation, and a fleeting smile crossed his face carved like ice, then he spoke calmly, "Waiter!"
Cora Ginger was engrossed in the spectacle and was caught off guard when called upon, "Ah? Ah ah, here, here, here!"
"Go get the roses, I've booked all the roses in the club for tonight!"
"Got it!"
Cora Ginger responded cheerfully and dashed out, shouting into her walkie-talkie, "Private room seventeen, book all the roses! Get ready immediately!"
