"My California sunshine! My bikini beaches! All ruined!"
Inside the luxurious cabin, Jessica Jones slammed her half-full glass of premium champagne onto the crystal coffee table, sending grapes rolling out of the fruit bowl and across the floor.
With dark circles under both eyes, she pointed at the clouds outside the window and unleashed a furious tirade at Yang Ming, who sat opposite her with his eyes closed:
"What happened to our paid vacation? What happened to living it up on the world's richest man's dime? What did we get instead? The first night, I watched you kill someone. The second night, I watched you dismantle a Gundam with your bare hands! Who's paying for my emotional damages?"
"You ate three Boston lobsters and two tins of black truffle caviar last night, and you swiped two bottles of vintage Lafite from Tony's wine cellar." Yang Ming didn't even open his eyes. His voice remained utterly flat.
"At market prices, this 'paid vacation' has already burned through your next five years of wages."
"He was treating us! Why should that come out of my pay?" Jessica sprang up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"Because I saved him, and you're my employee." Yang Ming adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and finally opened his eyes. "If you feel shortchanged, I'll confiscate those two bottles of Lafite when we land and put them in the clinic's medicine cabinet to use as rubbing alcohol."
"Don't even think about it! Those bottles are my life!" Jessica clutched the backpack beside her like a guard dog protecting its food.
Sitting nearby, Trish Walker swallowed and shrank farther into the corner of the couch. She no longer looked at Yang Ming as a "rich, handsome boss." Now, she saw "Godzilla wearing human skin."
What she