Ian Winters glanced at Jasper Shaw.
The man had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The faint outline of an eight-pack was visible beneath his dress shirt. His features were sharp and well-defined, and his dark, deep, icy eyes gave him a wild, untamable air.
And this man, standing at six-foot-three, was already a nationally renowned tycoon at the young age of twenty-eight—the very man every financial journal was vying to interview.
Ian Winters didn't hesitate for a second, quickly shaking his head.
"You're young and accomplished. How could you possibly be old?"
Twenty-eight is a man's prime. Besides, there were flocks of young women outside the company who dreamed of marrying Jasper Shaw.
"Chairman Shaw, you've been named the nation's most eligible bachelor for six years running."
Ian Winters pushed up his glasses and said earnestly, "So, you should have the utmost confidence."
'Though he personally believed Jasper Shaw would never get a girlfriend in his entire life.'
