Grayson frowned coldly. "Mila is lazy. These weeds have grown so tall, and she hasn't bothered to clean them up.
"Compared to Chloe, she's really like night and day!"
Grayson snorted in disgust and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to cover his nose and mouth.
Who knows what smell bothered him.
"Mila, are you addicted to living alone? Get out here already!"
He looked superior, his gaze full of disgust.
It was as if lowering himself to come here was a rare favor.
But no matter how many times he called, there was no response inside.
Grayson was getting impatient.
He indifferently instructed the bodyguards behind him, "Go over there and break down the door!"
With a loud crash, the bodyguards broke down the door and rushed in to grab someone.
But within five minutes, they ran out looking confused.
"Mr. Allen, Mrs. Allen is not inside."
Grayson's brows furrowed, his expression heavy.
Refusing to believe it, he searched inside and found no trace of anyone, so he pulled out his phone to call me.
We hadn't spoken in three years, and he frowned. Thinking for a long time, he was unable to remember my phone number.
Finally, he opened the contact labeled "Bitch" and dialed the number.