"Vi Trà's death was not caused by my order, Trầm Tu Cẩn and his thugs." Giản Đồng spoke up, but before she could finish, a strong hand gripped her chin, and the magnetic voice of the man interrupted her, "Do you like me that much?"

His voice was crisp and cold, with... a hint of cigarette smoke - a scent that belonged to him.

"What?" Giản Đồng was a little puzzled. Everyone knew she liked him. Why was he suddenly asking this?

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