It was still that gentle and soft voice, but the tone inside was that of a mistress of the house. Where did she place his lawful wife?
Song Weiyi's fingers clenched the cellphone forcefully, fine veins writhing on the back of her hand, hideously terrifying.
"Who are you?" It took a while before Song Weiyi finally spoke up.
Her voice was unexpectedly calm and cold.
Yet her slightly trembling body betrayed Song Weiyi's true emotions at that moment.
The woman on the phone chuckled lightly, "It seems Miss Song hasn't been following the news, which makes sense since you're in America. It's normal not to see the news."
Her tone, compared to before, carried even more self-satisfaction and mockery.
It was quite uncomfortable to listen to.
"Just tell me, who are you, and why do you have Pei Yibai's phone? Where is he?" Song Weiyi's tone grew heavier, almost aggressive in her questioning.
