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Now reading: Chapter 93 - 91: White Knife In, Red Knife Out from I Faked My Death—Now I Have to Tame the Crazy Men I Left Behind, a Romance novel by Nanli Rogue.

「The hospital corridor.」

Mrs. Grant was blocked outside the door.

Ian Sinclair stood at the door to the hospital room, looking like one man holding a pass against ten thousand.

"Auntie, I’ll say this one last ti. Today, no one is getting in except for dical staff."

"Call the police, call whoever you want. You’re still not getting in."

Mrs. Grant looked at the brat in front of her and couldn’t help but sneer. "The person inside is my daughter. Do I need your permission to go see her?"

"Whether or not she’s your daughter remains to be seen."

By the elevators, Felix Sinclair hurried over, looking travel-worn. "Auntie, even if she really is your daughter, the patient needs to rest right now. You can co back later."

The young man stopped at the doorway, standing with Ian Sinclair.

"You two?" Mrs. Grant looked them up and down, as if she’d realized sothing. "What kind of love potion did Mia Grant give you? Get out of my way right now, and I’ll pretend today never happened."

"Otherwise..."

Ian Sinclair couldn’t be bothered with her nonsense. He gave a malicious smile. "If you have the guts, go ahead and have your n beat us to death and throw our bodies out."

Mrs. Grant’s expression darkened. "You little punks, do you really think I don’t dare to get physical?"

"My, my, what’s all this commotion about?"

At the sound of the voice, they turned their heads and saw a figure erge from the adjacent hospital room.

The newcor wore a devil-may-care smile on his face. His alluring eyes were slightly narrowed, and his every step and expression carried a hint of careless indolence.

But more eye-catching than any of that was the cold glint of the blade in his hand.

The cut on the man’s fingertip was deep and still oozing beads of blood, but he paid it no mind, casually toying with the long-handled fruit knife in his hand.

He stopped in front of the two young n, sizing them up with a smile. "Ah, I know you two."

He didn’t say how he knew them. He simply adopted the air of the rightful empress, gesturing toward the hospital room door with the handle of his knife. "Go on inside."

Ian Sinclair eyed him suspiciously, not moving. He didn’t budge until Felix Sinclair, beside him, pulled on his arm. "Let’s go in and check on her."

Ian Sinclair started to say sothing, but Felix Sinclair gave him a slight shake of his head.

Once they left, the space in front of the door was empty. Yates Donovan didn’t move to block it, instead standing off to the side, smiling as he looked at the people opposite him.

Several bodyguards in black took the opportunity to step forward and kick the door, but in the next second, a blade flashed horizontally to block them.

"Don’t make a scene."

"This is a hospital. I’d rather not get my hands dirty here."

"Yates Donovan..." Mrs. Grant raised a hand, signaling for the bodyguards to stand down. She stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the knife in his hand. "What is the aning of this?"

"The old man just heard arguing out here and asked to co diate. And look, he knows I’m a bit timid, so he gave a handy little tool to bring with ."

As he spoke, he swung the knife casually through the air a couple of tis, frightening Mrs. Grant so much that she stumbled backward.

A mont ago, when facing the Sinclair brothers, she had held back because she knew their mother and didn’t want to completely burn that bridge.

But she hadn’t taken the threats or warnings from those two little brats seriously.

Yates Donovan, however, was different.

The Sinclair twins were normal people.

Yates Donovan, on the other hand, was a complete and utter madman.

Mrs. Grant took a deep breath. Mindful of who was staying in the next room, she had no choice but to apologize. "I’m so sorry to have disturbed the old gentleman. I was just a bit too anxious and spoke harshly to the two young n. We weren’t arguing."

"Ah, is that so?" Yates Donovan tilted his head. "I thought you were being bullied by those two, Auntie."

"..."

"You know, Silas Grant and I have been good friends for many years. If sothing were to happen to you, I’d have a hard ti explaining it to him."

Mrs. Grant forced a smile.

Yates Donovan gestured toward the elevators with his knife. "Well, since everything’s fine, shall I have soone escort you ho?"

"That won’t be necessary. I brought a driver."

Yates Donovan smiled and stepped back, clearing a path for her.

The tip of the knife remained suspended in the air, kindly pointing her toward the clear path out.

Mrs. Grant started to leave, but after taking two steps, she seed to rember sothing and suddenly turned back. "Yates Donovan, you and Mia Grant have nothing to do with each other anymore. Watch yourself."

"Oh?" Yates Donovan raised an eyebrow. "Then why don’t you tell , Auntie, who am I supposed to have a relationship with?"

"Serena, is it?"

"But if I recall correctly, the Keller and Grant families were discussing a marriage not too long ago. The Keller family only has one grandson, Kian Keller. So which Grant family daughter... was being promised away?"

"Ah, I rember now. Mia Grant had already been buried at the ti, so it could only have been Serena."

"..." Mrs. Grant’s face paled.

"So, are you saying, Auntie, that you plan to marry Serena off to both and Kian Keller at the sa ti?"

"I don’t have a problem with it, personally. But if that’s how we’re doing things, should I also call over those few ’good sisters’ of mine from outside to get acquainted with Serena ahead of ti?"

"You!" Mrs. Grant’s eyes widened. "What do you take our Serena for!"

"What’s it got to do with , Auntie? Aren’t I the victim here?" Yates Donovan sighed pitifully. "Out of nowhere, the fiancée my elders arranged for is suddenly marrying my arch-nesis. Are you writing a screenplay?"

"...It’s not what you think." But as for what it actually was, Mrs. Grant just stamred, unable to explain.

’The Donovan family’s old master is in the room right next door. If I tell the truth, what if Yates brings him into it?’

Fortunately, the "kindhearted" Yates Donovan ca to her rescue. "Auntie, this matter isn’t all that complicated."

"I can agree to break off the engagent with Serena."

Mrs. Grant’s head snapped up. ’If he were to break off the engagent voluntarily, it would be the perfect solution for everyone.’

"But I have one condition." The man grinned. "I’ve kept myself as pure as jade for my fiancée all these years. In the end, I can’t just end up with nothing to show for it."

Hearing this, all Mrs. Grant wanted to do was scoff.

’Him? Pure as jade?

Hah.

In the beginning, they’d had no other choice. But now, Kian Keller also wanted to marry Serena. That being the case, who would ever choose Yates Donovan?’

"Then tell , what do you want?"

"I don’t want much." Yates Donovan pointed the handle of his knife at the door behind him. "The one inside... is mine now."

"..."

For a mont, Mrs. Grant’s expression was beyond what could be described as re shock.

He flipped the knife around and pointed the handle at the room next door. "Or, you can co with right now, and we can go have a nice long chat with the old man about the marriage to Serena."

Mrs. Grant was speechless. Yates Donovan had given her two choices, but there was only one path she could take.

"Fine. Mia Grant is a daughter of the Grant family anyway, so it’s not technically a violation of the marriage contract."

Yates Donovan just smiled and shook his head.

"You didn’t understand what I ant."

"When I said she’s mine, I ant that from this day forward, she can be her own person, or she can be *my* Mia Grant. But she will never again be the Grant family’s Mia Grant."

"You should think it over carefully."

"If you agree, and a situation like today’s ever happens again..."

A muffled grunt sounded as the blade, without warning, plunged into the thigh of the bodyguard next to Mrs. Grant. The clean blade went in, and a blood-red one ca out.

Acting as if nothing had happened, Yates Donovan raised the knife, showing Mrs. Grant the drops of blood sliding off the blade. "See? That’s what will happen."

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