Chloe Reed’s fingers twitched. She got up, sat down beside him, and started drinking the soup.
It was delicious—just the way she liked it.
But she hated Walker Grant’s thods.
’To force her hand, he’d just blurted it out, not caring who was around!’
’Was that sothing he could just say out loud?!’
’If Claire Monroe found out about William Quinn and Iris Yates, could Nathaniel Monroe and Iris Yates’s wedding still go on?’
Walker Grant watched her drink her soup, the corners of his lips curving up. He said to Claire Monroe, "It’s nothing. We’ve just been reading a novel recently. The story is pretty interesting."
Claire Monroe imdiately lost interest and quipped, "You read novels? I never would have guessed."
Walker Grant said, "A lot of novels are about winning a woman back. I’m taking notes."
"Pfft..."
Chloe Reed finished her bowl of soup and said, "It’s actually quite good."
Walker Grant didn’t press the issue and simply began to eat his own al.
Fortunately, he didn’t make them wait long. After the al, they headed for the villa on the outskirts of the city.
The basent was brightly lit under the cover of night.
Miles Hawthorne was barely breathing. Covered in blood and filth, he was a wretched sight.
A bodyguard carried over a bucket of cold water and dumped its entire contents on him.
The shock jolted him awake. He struggled to open his eyes and saw Walker Grant and Chloe Reed, along with a woman he didn’t recognize.
Claire Monroe walked over and circled him twice before speaking. "How pathetic."
Miles Hawthorne’s entire body went taut. He sensed danger.
He looked toward Chloe Reed, his voice a raw rasp. "You... Why haven’t you killed yet..."
Chloe Reed looked at him coldly. "Why would I kill you?"
Miles Hawthorne closed his eyes, intending to go back to playing dead.
"You worked for the Norton Company before?"
Just then, the woman next to him spoke. Her tone was mild, disarming.
But Miles Hawthorne’s nerves stretched taut. He looked at her. "You know ?"
"No." Claire Monroe shook her head. "But, by all rights, we should."
Miles Hawthorne frowned at her, searching his mory for her face, but after a long mont, he still couldn’t place her.
SNAP!
In the brief mont his concentration lapsed, he suddenly heard a sharp snap. Imdiately, his consciousness began to blur.
Everything beca muddled, his reactions sluggish.
The only thing that cut through the haze was that gentle, soft voice in his ear. "What’s your na? Why don’t we get to know each other?"
Chloe Reed was so nervous her palms began to sweat. She held her breath; this was the first ti she had witnessed hypnosis up close.
Claire Monroe guided the muddled Miles Hawthorne, coaxing him to reveal, bit by bit, everything she wanted to know.
Chloe Reed was inwardly stunned. She was beginning to get a true sense of Claire Monroe’s abilities.
The interrogation had reached a critical juncture.
Claire Monroe’s voice grew even slower. "Your superior... what’s their na?"
Miles Hawthorne’s lips trembled as if in a struggle. It was like a command had been embedded in his mind, preventing him from speaking.
Claire Monroe’s brow furrowed, her expression turning exceptionally grim.
"We’re friends. You can trust completely..." Claire Monroe coaxed, timing her words with the pocket watch in her hand. The TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK sound was shattering Miles Hawthorne’s psychological defenses.
"Miss Vera..."
Under Claire Monroe’s relentless prompting, Miles Hawthorne slowly forced out two words.
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