My Poor Husband Is A Billionaire

Ritchie took a few steps back in shock.

Exasperated, he looked at his men, who were all knocked down to the ground and groaning in pain.

"Where did you hire them?" he asked in disbelief.

Ethan’s voice was as cold as ice.

"They’re my friends."

"Your friends? Ha! They must be jobless losers just like you."

Although Ritchie was a little scared and flustered, he refused to show it.

He stared at Ethan’s "friends" condescendingly.

Ethan was a loser after all.It made sense that his friends were all thugs.

Ethan didn’t answer.

Instead, he asked the man behind him to take care of Laney.

and said

was even

the Ethan he knew? How dare he disrespect him like this? Ritchie straightened his suit and walked to the door of the private room: He walked past Ethan and bumped into his shoulder deliberately.He cast a sidelong glance at Ethan, his

yourself, having a group of thugs for friends.Just remember: you’re nothing but a poor, powerless loser.I swear I’ll make your life

Ethan sneered.

brim of his cap, his eyes flashed coldly.He had one hand in his pocket while the

Ritchie, he turned to the others and said,

covered in bloody wounds

on a little

tried to press some tissues against Laney’s wounds to

were colorless, but her eyes were bloodshot.She didn’t respond to Janet and stared at the ceiling of the car listlessly.She seemed to be in excruciating pain.She winced and frowned, her

turned to the driver and said sternly, "Get to Frank’s as fast

passed out in the car from too much blood

her wounds.She glanced at Ethan and seemed to want to say something but stopped on

thing right now was for Laney to

have the time to question

wheeled into the ER in Frank’s

Frank shook his head and clicked his

been here several times recently.You must have

with the bullshit.How