After Mason and his crew left, Byron and Rosalie were the only ones left in the corridor.

Rosalie's wrist was still in Byron's grip.

He did not look like he was going to let go any time soon, but Rosalie did not fly off the handle. She just said calmly, "They're gone, so you can let go now. Don't worry, I won't run away."

Byron watched her carefully for a few seconds before he slowly let go.

Rosalie rubbed her sore wrist and to two steps back before looking up to meet his gaze. "Is there anything else, President Lawrence?"

Byron frowned abruptly.

He saved her, but she did not even thank him. And now she was asking him if there was anything else?

"Miss Jacobs, I just helped you again. Is this how you repay me?" His tone was cold.

Rosalie smirked at him mirthlessly. "Helped me? If you really wanted to help me, you wouldn't have told Jones to continue where he left off. Face it, you just wanted to see me dance to your tune. Don't make yourself sound holier than you are."

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