"Is this a formal turnover or just an abuse of authority to trespass on someone's house?"
I asked flatly, standing by the door with crossed arms, my expression oscillating between tired and sarcastic.
Joseph Armand, resident billionaire and walking embodiment of "I-do-what-I-want," chuckled like he'd just heard an inside joke only the rich understand. He leisurely strolled past me as if I were the butler he didn't bother to greet.
"No need to be so hostile, Mr. Dela Torre," he said, moving with the confidence of a man who was allergic to being told 'no.' "Let's just say… a formal turnover. I personally took care of the former tenant's belongings. Least you could do is let me sit for five minutes before kicking me out."
Calling me Jade with familiarity before, then addressing me formally next. What the hell is this guy trying to do? I always had this wary feeling towards him since I first saw him. It's a wonder.
