Everyone knew that Mo Zhanyan’s new secretary was beautiful and had a great figure, but her temper was a little fiery.
Mo Zhanyan looked at Li Qing, who was as docile as a kitten in front of him.
“Fake.”
Everyone said Mo Zhanyan was rich and handsome, the kind of man every woman wanted to marry.
After being put through the wringer by him, Li Qing gritted her teeth.
“Bullshit.”
Later, someone saw a man kneeling in a corner of a banquet hall before a cool, composed woman.
“Wifey, please, come home with me.”
The only one who can make a god fall from his pedestal is a pet pretending to submit.
