Taking a deep breath, Mia Grant let her shoulders slump. "Alright, whatever. I really do have to thank you this ti."
"Thank ?" Yates Donovan raised an eyebrow, surprised she would thank him.
In his experience, his little fiancée had always been lukewarm toward him, maybe even disliked him a little.
Around others, she was like a delicate little white flower, carefully tended to in a greenhouse.
She would cry, laugh, and act cute.
But with him, she never showed him a pleasant expression.
She forced a smile and slapped his hand away. "Thanks for not killing in that crash just now!"
Mia Grant finally understood.
Asking Yates Donovan for help would, more likely than not, just make things worse.
When he saved soone, it usually ca with so added danger, because his thods for solving problems were exceptionally extre.
For example, there were many ways he could have stalled Silas Grant. But he just had to go and get her parents involved, which made her worry, too.
Another example: to stop Silas Grant’s n from taking her, he ramd their car without a second thought.
The mory of being violently thrown back into her seat was still fresh. It didn’t feel like a simple rescue.
It felt more like murder.
It had an absurd "leave it to fate" quality to it—if you lived, you were saved; if you died, he’d collect the body.
Yates Donovan laughed.
"It’s all an act. You have to make it realistic. If the audience spots a flaw, isn’t that a stage accident?"
"You should understand that better than I do."
"You’re the professional, aren’t you?"
The man’s handso, almond-shaped eyes curved upward, his smile rippling like a lake thawing in early spring. "Didn’t you jump into the sea to make your faked death more convincing?"
"You weren’t afraid of drowning then, but now you’re scared of a little car crash?"
"..."
Faked death. Jumping into the sea.
Mia Grant’s hands, which were adjusting her coat, froze.
The bow on the back of her waist had just been pulled undone by Yates Donovan. The long sashes were a tangled ss in her hands, just like her thoughts... a complete knot.
Yates Donovan stood across from her, enjoying her expression.
’As expected of a great actress. In just a split second, there was surprise, panic, confusion, and bewildernt—the whole gamut.’
He felt he couldn’t compare. Cupping his hands, he offered a round of applause and couldn’t help but remark, "You should have applied to drama school."
"..." Mia Grant lowered her gaze and, as if nothing had happened, went back to fixing her sash.
A perfect bow was retied.
She slowly raised her head, t Yates Donovan’s amused gaze, and smiled. "Do you have any proof?"
Seeing him stay silent, she shrugged. "I guess not, then?"
"If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going."
Mia Grant glanced around, picked a direction that seed promising, and turned to leave.
"Little Jacob, that’s a dead end."
Mia Grant’s eyelid twitched. She turned around, brushed past his shoulder, and walked off without a word.
Yates Donovan turned sideways, watching her back. His tone was unhurried. "Going back to school? Silas Grant is waiting for you there."
Yates Donovan didn’t move from his spot. He didn’t need to chase her; he was certain Mia Grant couldn’t get away.
Mia Grant stopped.
"Nowhere to go?"
"Let’s go." Having said his piece, Yates Donovan stepped forward and walked past her.
When he didn’t hear footsteps following him, he turned back. eting Mia Grant’s scrutinizing gaze, he let out a laugh. "So wary. When you were begging to save you, why weren’t you afraid I’d sell you out?"
"Where are you taking ?"
"Don’t worry. It’s safe with ."
Mia Grant still didn’t trust him. "Aren’t you afraid Silas Grant will track you down if you take ? You’re friends with him. How will you explain it then?"
She couldn’t figure out what on earth Yates Donovan was thinking.
His actions seed to defy logic.
He was impossible to read.
"Explain?" Yates Donovan feigned confusion. "Do I need to explain going on a date with my own fiancée to anyone?"
"So you’ll just hand over when he finds you."
"Relax, he won’t find you."
"You think he doesn’t know where you live in Jynsia?"
"Who said I was taking you to my place?"
"Then where?"
"The most dangerous place is often the safest." eting her baffled expression, Yates Donovan beckoned to her. "Co on, let’s go visit our little third brother."
"..."
—
「The hospital.」
Inside the VIP room, Hayes Hughes had not yet woken up.
Mia Grant stood by the bed, scrutinizing him from head to toe several tis. Seeing his pale face, her heart clenched.
’A tragic beauty is certainly more pitiable, but did Silas Grant have to be so brutal?’
"Don’t worry, he won’t die." Yates Donovan sat down on a nearby sofa, crossed his legs, and picked an orange from the fruit bowl on the table to eat.
"The guy’s tough as nails, surviving a beating like that from Silas Grant."
Mia Grant shot him a look, silently telling him to keep his voice down. ’He’s like a running comntary, just an endless stream of complaints.’
"The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. He won’t be waking up."
At his words, sothing suddenly occurred to Mia Grant. She walked around the hospital bed and strode up to Yates Donovan.
A shadow fell over him as she stood there, staring intently at him.
Yates Donovan didn’t know what she was up to. He held out the orange he had just started peeling. "If you want so, just say so. It’s not like I won’t share."
Mia Grant desperately wanted to roll her eyes, but she restrained herself.
"I’m asking you sothing serious."
"You said on the phone before that Kian Keller stabbed Hayes Hughes. When did that happen?"
"Was it two months ago?"
She rembered clearly. Up until the day she jumped into the sea, Hayes Hughes had been perfectly fine.
He hadn’t seed injured at all.
So it must have happened after she jumped.
Yates Donovan was still holding up a segnt of the orange. At her question, he calmly pulled his hand back and popped the piece into his own mouth. Playing dumb, he said, "When did I say that? I don’t rember."
Mia Grant pulled out Hayes Hughes’s phone. "I have a recording."
Yates Donovan stared at the phone in her hand. After a few seconds of stunned silence, he suddenly burst out laughing.
"So worried about him, are you?" He turned sideways, propping his head on one hand. His breath, fresh with the scent of orange, drew near her. "If you want to know, you can..."
His hand, which had been resting on his leg, reached for the buttons on her coat, easily flicking open the top one. "What will you give in exchange?"
A sliver of the young woman’s fair skin was exposed to the air.
’Yates Donovan had touched her hand before; it was smooth and soft. It was hard not to wonder if the rest of her skin felt the sa.’
’No, perhaps it would be even more exquisite.’
His actions and his gaze were full of suggestion.
"What’s with the silence?" His fingertips paused on the second button.
"Is that... a yes?"
"In that case, I won’t hold back."
As he spoke, the second button ca undone.
He was at least human enough to ask considerately, "Should we move sowhere else?"
Mia Grant stared into his eyes, unmoved.
She was like a porcelain doll, her eyes vacant and hollow, offering no resistance, only listless compliance.
Yates Donovan averted his gaze. "Fine. I don’t think it’s necessary either."
"Our little third brother is right there... He might even be able to hear."
"How about we do sothing bad right next to him?"
"How thrilling, baby."
"Here, your reaction will be..."
"...even stronger."
He smiled, pulling her into his arms. "I like it."
User Comments
0 comments from readers