Sam had been a butler for many years and could naturally hear the displeasure in the other party's tone, so he asked again, "Sir, may I know who you are?"
The other party tried to suppress their anger and said unhappily, "I am Jacob Powell, put Xaviera Evans on the phone."
Jacob Powell...
Upon hearing this name, Sam was filled with contempt. Mr. Powell's call to his wife was definitely not for any good reason, it must be to ask his wife to help clear Quinn Powell's name so that she could win the perfume-making competition.
He paused for a few seconds, his voice tinged with helplessness, "Mr. Powell, I apologize, but our lady is not at home. If you have anything to tell her, you can let me know and I can pass the message along."
The thought of Quinn lying unconscious in bed with her life hanging by a thread made Jacob's anger rise.
