’Hee hee~ He’s flirting with !’
Claire Sinclair couldn’t possibly bring herself to hang up. While he wasn’t looking at the cara, she openly admired the man’s perfect, handso face, her own cheeks growing redder by the second.
"I just realized today that you’re not just a smoldering type—you’re also pretty narcissistic."
’In short: his cold persona has completely crumbled!’
The corner of Adrian Quincy’s mouth lifted into a smirk. "Want to hear my assessnt of you?"
"Uh, go ahead!"
Adrian Quincy gave her a seemingly casual glance before naturally averting his eyes. He parted his lips and said softly, "Of three thousand streams, I only wish to draw from one."
Claire Sinclair’s heart skipped a beat, and a strange feeling bubbled up inside her.
Although she had a general idea of what he ant, she still wanted to hear him say it plainly.
"Can’t you just say it in plain English?"
"Does it still hurt there?"
He suddenly countered with a question.
Claire Sinclair’s body stiffened for a mont before she quickly shook her head. "It doesn’t hurt anymore!"
"Good. You should work on your stamina when you have ti. Otherwise, you won’t be able to keep up with next ti."
"..." ’I am not dignifying that with a response!’
Just as she fell silent, Adrian Quincy suddenly spoke. "I have to take a call. I’ll talk to you later."
With that, the video call ended.
Claire Sinclair pouted. ’As if he’s the only one who’s busy!’
’Wait, I almost forgot sothing!’
She quickly sent a ssage to her best friend: Faye, are you okay?
After waiting for what felt like an eternity, Faye Dean finally replied: Couldn’t be better!
Claire: Is the guy alive?
Faye: I saved him, but the bastard is mooching off and won’t leave my house. He’s even taken over my bed! He says he’ll only leave after I’ve treated his injuries, but he refuses to go to a hospital. I seriously think I’m being scamd!
Claire: You hit him with your car. You’re lucky he’s not suing you. Just put up with it for now.
Faye: Hmph. Let tell you, I think he’s an illegal immigrant. He doesn’t have any ID on him. And I saw a really weird wound on his body—it’s all festered and looks a bit like a gunshot wound, but he didn’t even flinch. What kind of person do you think he is?
’No way, that sounds terrifying!’
Claire Sinclair suggested: An assassin? A spy? Why don’t you try calling the police?
After she sent that ssage, Faye Dean suddenly went silent.
...
「ridia.」
"If you dare call the police, I’ll kill you." A deep, hoarse voice suddenly ca from behind, making Faye Dean jump in fright.
Faye Dean fumbled to put her phone away. Although she was terrified, her personality was naturally headstrong. She fearlessly retorted, "Go on then, kill ! I can tell you’re no good. But if you kill , don’t even think about escaping the police in ridia!"
The man was about to speak when he broke into an uncontrollable fit of coughing. It aggravated an old wound on his chest, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.
Seeing his agonized expression, Faye Dean couldn’t bear it and softened her tone. "It was my fault for hitting you, and I’ll take full responsibility. But please, be a little more polite to . At the very least, show so respect."
The man nodded but didn’t speak, stifling his coughs and unable to make a sound.
Faye Dean hesitated for a mont before asking, "What’s your na?"
"Frank Morgan."
’What a strange na...’
Frank Morgan rasped, "And... your na?"
"Faye Dean."
"Faye Dean..." Frank Morgan murmured her na, and the next second, his entire body collapsed.
Faye Dean’s expression changed. She rushed over to support him. "Hey, what’s wrong with you?"
The man didn’t respond.
She reached out to touch his forehead, only to recoil from the scorching heat.
’So hot...’
’The guy’s running a high fever. This is so much trouble!’
’Then again, he was able to read the Chinese characters on my phone. Could he be from Country H, too?’
(The other supernatural novel Cece is writing went live today, and the results weren’t great, which caused to get writer’s block for this book... Sigh. Please bear with this Chapter for now. Once I get my groove back, the plot will get back on track...)
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