’No matter how unscrupulously she tried to seduce him, how desperately she tried to climb into his bed, at least she had so sense of sha. In front of her own son, she knew to pull back from the brink, fighting with all her might to preserve her image as a pure, loving mother in her child’s eyes.’
BZZZT... BZZZT... BZZZT...
The phone on the coffee table let out a series of vibrations. A call was coming in.
Seth Quinn looked away, walked over to the coffee table, and picked up his phone to answer the call.
"...Yeah, I’m here... Got it. I’ll deal with it when I get back."
Just as the person on the other end was about to hang up, Seth Quinn murmured a soft "mm." He hesitated for a mont, then called out to them.
"Wait a second..."
He spoke as he calmly sat down on the sofa, his expression casual and relaxed. "Run a check on soone for ."
"...A woman." Seth Quinn leaned back on the sofa, casually crossing one leg over the other. His right hand, the one not holding the phone, rested on the armrest, his index finger tapping it intermittently.
His gaze, however, was fixed on the now-damaged suitcase.
After a long pause, the person on the other end must have asked for more details, because Seth Quinn’s brow furrowed slightly again. "Distinguishing features?"
Seth Quinn’s gaze finally left the suitcase. His eyes drifted in thought for a few monts before settling on the ring of teeth marks on his right shoulder. "...Her teeth. They’re very straight."
After the other person said sothing else, he suddenly arched an eyebrow, his calm voice rising sharply. "...If I had any other information, would I need you to investigate?"
He hung up before the other person could respond and casually tossed the phone onto the sofa.
Seth Quinn felt a surge of irritation and tugged at his already open collar. ’If the hotel’s surveillance caras weren’t conveniently broken and undergoing ergency repairs, would I even need you for this?!’ he fud inwardly.
But another thing bugged him even more: why did he even think of investigating a woman like that?
...
Downstairs, Clara Grant bolted out of the elevator. Heedless of everything, she pulled Little Bun along as she sprinted through the lobby, ran down the steps, and made a beeline for her electric scooter. She placed Little Bun on the front footboard, facing her, then hopped on herself, started the motor, and sped off onto the main road in a flash.
The little guy was surprisingly cooperative, just holding on to her tightly without a word.
Only after driving for a long ti did Clara Grant seem to snap back to her senses, pulling the scooter over into a shady spot at the roadside.
She first glanced over her shoulder to make sure Seth Quinn wasn’t following. Only then did she let out a sigh of relief. ’Damn it! It was just a simple delivery, but I almost walked right into the lion’s den and lost my virtue!’
She cursed the scumbag in her head again before looking down at the little thing in her arms. She sighed. ’I had to run, but why did I bring him along?’
’Maybe it was because she knew that bastard Seth Quinn didn’t want to acknowledge him, that he wouldn’t accept him. Since he didn’t want the boy, leaving Little Bun there would have been dangerous. Who knows how that man would have treated the little guy.’
’But this was a job entrusted to her by Little Bun’s own mother—to deliver him to his own father. Now she’d just brought him back with her. What was she supposed to do now?!’
’Wasn’t this a betrayal of his mother’s trust? And the woman had paid her so much money! How was she supposed to explain this?’
’Then again, it wasn’t entirely her fault, right? Who knew there was a child in that suitcase? If she had known she was delivering a child, she would never have taken the job.’
’No wonder that woman kept telling her to be careful, to be extra careful, and to handle it gently.’
Clara Grant sighed to herself. When she looked down, she saw the little guy lift his head from her embrace and stare up at her with wide, round eyes.
Seeing her look down at him, Little Bun parted his chubby pink lips. "Ji..."
But he stopped after just that one, indistinct syllable.
Clara Grant looked at him in confusion. ’Ji? What did that an?’
"What were you trying to say, Little Bun?"
"Big Sister, I’m hungry." He breathed a silent sigh of relief. ’That was close. I almost called her the wrong thing!’
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