Joyce just sat there motionlessly.
Although she felt so disgusted with Otis' hand on the back of her hand, she did not rush to move him away.
She turned over slightly and eyed Otis sternly with a hint of sophisticated provocation.
She could feel the calluses on his palm, and judging from it thickness and roughness, she thought he must have practiced shooting for more than ten years. He should be quite good at shooting then, and he should have been quite familiar with sniper rifles.
This Mr. Robertson, she judged, was not someone she could deal with easily.
Compared to Ricky, Otis was obviously on a different level. Ricky was just vicious and ruthless, while Otis was not only vicious and ruthless but also shrewd, cunning and sophisticated.
She believed that in front of the Heaths, Otis was certainly not the way he was right now, otherwise he could not have been approved by the Heath family.
So Otis must be extremely well disguised.
And the disgusting man in front of her was the real Otis.
She judged that it would not be easy to deal with him, and she could not offend him either.
Otis saw Joyce staring straight at him, her eyes as sharp as a sword, and he had even more appreciation for this woman. Only very few people could look straight at him for so long without feeling afraid.
"What? What do you want?" Otis asked with interest.
"Oh, what does Mr. Robertson think I'm missing?" Joyce finally jerked her hand away and returned coldly.
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