Inheriting Billions After Being Retrenched

His eyes were slightly deep, and as soon as he was about to withdraw his gaze, he heard her voice suddenly raised: "What did you say!"

Luo Qiao stood up all of a sudden: "You wait, I'll be over!"

Hanging up the phone, she hurriedly got up and ran to the bedroom, but she didn't prevent the slippery slipper under her feet, and she fell to the ground severely.

She cried out in pain and almost cried.

Ming Siran flicked his eyebrows, strode over and picked her up from the ground, his face tense: "Where did it hurt?"

Luo Qiao's eyes were red with pain, and looked at him pitifully: "Knees...knees..."

Ming Siran put her on the sofa, half-kneeled on the ground, frowning, holding her ankle in his hand and lifting it up slightly, staring at her expression: "Does it hurt?"

Luo Qiao shook her head.

Ming Siran frowned: "Fortunately, no bones were hurt."

But the knee was bruised and it looked a little scary.

He got up and took the ice cubes. Luo Qiao was most afraid of the pain. She grabbed his shirt with her thin white fingers: "You lighten..."

Ming Siran hummed, lowered his eyes and gave her a cold compress.

In the warm light, the man's nose is high, his eyebrows are picturesque, and his eyes are serious.

Luo Qiao's gaze slowly fell from her knees to Ming Siran's body. The man's peachy eyes were slightly raised, his eyelashes were very long, and his face was smooth and imperfect everywhere.

Seeing that she was silent, Ming Siran frowned and raised his eyes: "It hurts?"

Luo Qiao's gaze hit his, her ears were hot, she was uncomfortable, don't open her eyes: "Yeah."

He moved lighter, his dry and warm fingers pinched her calf, as if afraid of her pain, he gently rubbed her unconsciously as if to soothe.

This kind of itching has spread from the calf to Luo Qiao's heart. She moved uncomfortably. She wanted to avoid it, but was held down by him, and whispered: "Don't move."

Luo Qiao's fingers gripped the pillow under her hand, and her lips were pursed, without speaking.

After applying a cold compress for a while, Luo Qiao felt a little cold and said, "Okay, it's okay."

Ming Siran didn't look up: "It needs to be enough for twenty minutes."

twenty minutes? Then her legs were so cold that she didn't feel it.

Luo Qiao: "I don't want to apply it, I don't hurt anymore."

He looked down, and Luo Qiao couldn't help kicking him.

The woman's snow-white toes fell on him, gently, with a touch of coquetry that she didn't even notice.

She may not know how attractive this action is to a man, plus she is still only wearing a bathrobe.

The slender and straight legs extend a seductive line, and the bathrobe opens slightly...

Ming Siran only glanced, and his eyes instantly became dark and dark.

Luo Qiao had just painted her nail polish. The pink color lined her feet exquisitely, as if it could be wrapped by one hand.

After staring for two seconds, Ming Siran looked away.

He ignored himself, and Luo Qiao continued to kick him gently: "Ming Siran."

The squeamish tone, with a deceptive tone, challenged his nerves.

Ming Siran's Adam's apple rolled lightly, his eyes darkened.

Luo Qiao bulged, and just about to continue talking, the next second, she felt her ankle being held vigorously, and the man's fingertips were hot, her eyes were dark and unpredictable: "Stop it, huh?"

Such deep eyes made people feel dangerous inexplicably, Luo Qiao stared at him, her toes curled up.

The living room was exceptionally quiet, and Ming Siran's gaze slowly moved from her face to her hand. The woman's ankle was slender and delicate, with a thin anklet wrapped around it, looking at... a little desire.