Chapter 808: 808: If You Die, I'll Set Off Firecrackers for You
Chapter 808: Chapter 808: If You Die, I’ll Set Off Firecrackers for You
Ten minutes later, she slipped back into the car.
As soon as she got in, she called Sylvan Cheney, but no one answered.
Lilac Serval furrowed her brows, her eyes filled with a gloomy light and the extinguished sheen, deep and fathomless.
Having no choice, she could only call Charles McIntosh.
“Brother McIntosh,” Lilac Serval said calmly, “I’ve safely sent Chale Cheney home. Did you call Mr. Cheney just now?”
Charles McIntosh was lying in bed with his eyes closed, struggling to turn on the speakerphone, his face unusually weary and tired.
“I did, but couldn’t get through,” Charles McIntosh’s voice was hoarse and low.
“How could this be,” Lilac Serval frowned, “I’ll go check on him.”
“It’s raining heavily outside, you’re a lady, don’t go,” Charles McIntosh advised, “It’s no use even if you do. It’s your first time in Landon, you’re not familiar with the areas.”
“I can’t just sit idly in the hotel waiting, can I? I am Mr. Cheney’s person after all. If anything happens to him, how could I, as his subordinate, live with my conscience?” Lilac Serval said a lot in one breath.
There was silence at the end of the line.
Charles McIntosh did not speak.
The air became suddenly quiet, motionless.
“I’m just a bit anxious, but I really don’t have any solution,” Lilac Serval was hot-tempered.
But she truly was without a solution, unable to contact Mr. Cheney, and unable to go out.
“Do you like Mr. Cheney?” Charles McIntosh suddenly asked, his hoarse voice coming through on the other end.
Lilac Serval was startled but, within a few seconds, cursed back—
“Charles McIntosh, what are you thinking? I’m Mr. Cheney’s subordinate. Isn’t it normal to be anxious in this situation? How the fuck did you bring up ‘like’? You’ve followed Mr. Cheney for many years too, as his subordinate. Should I say you like Mr. Cheney as well?”
“Charles McIntosh, why didn’t those bodyguards beat you to death today? Death would be better than a concussion.”
At a time like this, she really hadn’t expected Charles McIntosh to be talking nonsense like this.
Like?
The eyes of Lilac Serval held cold anger and the shadowy traces of fracturing.
Charles McIntosh: “…”
He knew he wasn’t a match for Lilac Serval when it came to verbal sparring.
Ever since he met Lilac Serval, she had never been at a loss for words.
“Charles McIntosh, I think you should get your brain checked by a doctor. You’re not just a little sick,” Lilac Serval said with cold disdain.
This man, his brain did indeed have a problem.
“Oh, maybe I’m too sick to think straight,” Charles McIntosh closed his eyes, powerless and exhausted, “Are you going back to the hotel?”
“Yes, Mr. Cheney’s driver is taking me there.”
“My hand might be useless, I don’t know if it can heal. If my legs go too, then I’ll be completely useless,” Charles McIntosh’s gentle voice carried a continued sadness.
“Charles McIntosh,” Lilac Serval spoke up, calling out his name, “If you’re sick, you need to be cured. You’re in the best hospital, what can’t be cured? If it really becomes useless, can I buy you fruit, will that do?”
“Just fruit?” Charles McIntosh felt a bit aggrieved.
“If you die, I’ll set off fireworks for you,” Lilac Serval sneered and hung up the phone.
She hadn’t expected that Spencer Childe’s bodyguards had actually shown restraint, leaving Charles McIntosh still energetic enough to talk.
Why didn’t they just kill him? If they did, this person, along with this person’s name… would have vanished from her mind forever, along with those painful memories completely erased.
How wonderful.
Lilac Serval looked out the window, her slender face showing traces of a discernible coldness.
Her eyes, cold and quiet.
Rain tapped against the windowpane, also tapping on her heart.
What do you think?
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