CHAPTER 187: CHAPTER 187: UNATTAINABLE (3000+)

Nicholas Grant found himself in a dilemma.

On one hand, he didn’t want to offend this ancestor, but on the other, his second uncle, Julian Grant, had previously issued a ban, freezing all the ancestor’s family resources!

Noah Grant sat in the Cullinan, his handsome face merging into the dim light. Hearing the silence on the other end, he crossed his long legs, leaning into the broad backrest, his gaze sharp.

"A citizen has gone missing in your jurisdiction..." He paused, his tone sinking further, "Are you going to search, or not?"

Nicholas Grant lifted his eyelids, "Of course, I’ll issue the order immediately!"

The call ended abruptly.

The car was silent as a tomb.

Noah Grant tossed his phone aside, briskly pulling open the top two buttons of his shirt in a slightly rough manner.

The man bore the dark circles of days of travel under his eyes, his Adam’s apple moving slightly as he instructed the driver, "To Tristone!"

In the dead of night, Julian Grant was awakened by the vibration of his phone.

He immediately picked up the phone, connecting without making a sound. Quietly getting out of bed, he tucked in the blanket for the sleeping Rosalind, only speaking once he was in the other room, "Nicholas."

"Uncle, sorry to disturb your rest, it’s like this, Noah..." Nicholas Grant reported truthfully.

Although, he had already "acted first, reported later."

Hearing this, Julian Grant leaned against the railing, tapping his fingers on the redwood. There was no need to guess—that stubborn kid must be doing this for that Vera!

"Cooperate with him as always, finding the person is important."

Nicholas Grant breathed a sigh of relief; it was also within his expectations.

In the face of a real crisis, the father and son were one, the instinct of bloodline was protection.

Returning to the bedroom, Rosalind had woken up. As she sat up, she asked anxiously, "Is it something with Noah?!"

Her heart pounded erratically; she was flustered.

With her myocarditis, she couldn’t handle any kind of scare. Julian Grant quickly waved his hand to comfort her, "It’s not him—it’s that Vera who is missing. The brat is looking for her."

Rosalind let out a deep breath.

Julian Grant sat down, pulling her close, his large hand resting on her chest, soothing her with an up-and-down motion, "Worrying for nothing, what could possibly happen to him!"

Rosalind calmed down, "That Vera..." Halfway through the sentence, she changed the topic, "Was it Nicholas looking for you? Lately, Nicholas has taken a liking to the mayor’s daughter in Ardendale..."

...

The blood moon hung high, the Phantom drove leisurely on the mountain highway.

In the car, Vera turned her head to avoid Ian Kane’s kiss, her fist pressed against his chest, body tense.

Ian Kane buried his face in her side neck, deeply inhaling the scent of her skin, feeling her warmth, his iron arm pulling her closer with a force she could feel in her bones.

If she moved, he tightened his grip slightly.

Like an addict getting the long-desired "drug."

Also an incurable poison.

The disparity in strength between man and woman made it impossible for Vera, drenched in sweat, to shake him even a bit.

"Don’t move. If you move again, I honestly can’t guarantee I won’t force you." The man’s hoarse voice was thick with threat, "I’m a madman, and when I’m mad, I can’t control myself!"

It was also a warning.

Vera froze, daring not to move recklessly.

"Honey, do you know what I most want to do now?" Ian Kane panted heavily, nose against her delicate skin, feeling her body temperature, his teeth teasingly biting.

Vera resisted, pinching him hard.

Ian Kane bit down on her forcefully, a mournful sound escaping deep from his throat, "I want to go... die with you!"

To him, that was the only way to be complete.

And a form of release.

Love and separation, resentment and meeting, desires unmet... life was so bitterly tragic.

Vera was violently shaken, body tense, not daring to breathe heavily.

Afraid he might really drag her to die with him.

In an instant, her lips curled into an ironic, helpless bitter smile.

He saw her as his life-saving straw, but she could no longer be his salvation.

The car remained dead silent.

Only the sound of the car’s engine and the wind howling outside.

Vera let Ian Kane hold her.

The man’s faint trembling, warm and moist liquid falling on her neck, gradually cooling into chill.

His mourning and tears were an outburst of all his violence and craziness, Ian Kane seemed like nothing more than an empty shell, only by leaning on the warm body in his arms could he feel that he was still alive.

Time ticked by, he wrapped her tighter in his iron arms, finally loosening slightly, leaving behind a weary, heavy lean.

Outside the car, the blood-red moonlight occasionally flickered across his tear-stained side face, flickering like restless ghost fire.

...

The car stopped.

Inside, Ian Kane straightened up.

Vera immediately moved away from his embrace, slumping into the nearby chair, the cold sweat on her body already dried, outside was the brightly lit villa.

The man beside her adjusted the slightly wrinkled collar of his trench coat, his movements meticulous.

The outside light illuminated his cold, hard profile, as if the tears from earlier were an illusion.

He got out first, opened the car door, standing in silence, an invisible pressure emanating from him.

As if waiting for her to make the "right" choice.

Vera didn’t make any meaningless struggles, getting out of the car.

Ignoring the pain in her soles, she followed his tall, graceful back into the villa.

...

In the room, exhausted, she leaned against the single sofa, Ian Kane came in from outside, placing a medical kit on the coffee table.

"There’s iodine and ointment inside, see if there’s anything suitable, if not, I’ll have someone get it." His tone was calm, speaking as he glanced at her feet.

The shoes were placed aside, the socks stained with dried blood.

Vera Sheridan opened her eyes, leaned over to open the medicine kit, and skillfully took out iodine, cotton swabs, and a piece of individually packaged sterile gauze.

No waterproof bandages.

But she didn’t say anything.

She bent down; the blood blisters from her heels and soles had burst, oozing blood.

Vera carefully used iodine to disinfect the broken skin, her actions professional and calm.

Ian Kane stood a short distance away, watching silently, his jaw slightly tightened.

After a while, he suddenly turned and walked out.

About a few minutes later, when he returned, he placed a box of waterproof bandages on the coffee table, a brand-new white bathrobe on the sofa, and finally, tossed down two keys.

"If you’re worried, you can deadbolt the door; these are the keys." Saying this, he strode out of the room.

Vera looked at the silver keys, stunned for a moment, and understood his intention.

After being busy for over ten hours, she was about to start smelling.

After taking care of her foot injury, she deadbolted the door and went into the bathroom...

...

Basement.

The air carried a damp musty smell mingled with the faint scent of rust.

Only an old lamp emitted an amber glow, surrounded by a few moths dancing in the light.

Ian Kane sat on the sofa at the boundary between light and shadow, long legs crossed, his suit pants straight, shoes shining.

A cigarette dangled from his mouth, his deep eyes scrutinizing the man in the raincoat suspended like a dead object through the bluish-white smoke.

He was shirtless, marked with countless blood streaks, arms tied to the ceiling with rough ropes, his toes barely touching the ground, the whole person in a sorry state, long past his previous madness.

A subordinate leaned close to the sofa and whispered, "President Kane, we checked it out. This kid is just a deranged sycophant, utterly stubborn."

"That Vivian Langdon, with her manipulative words, is obviously using others to do her dirty work! But he stubbornly believes that his goddess is pure and harmless, and everything is his voluntary choice."

"Lacking a brain!"

Ian Kane slowly exhaled smoke, his tone indifferent, "People alive always have vulnerabilities."

Pausing, he lazily added, "His family members, are they all in good health?"

The subordinate instantly understood, "You mean to target his family, force him to smear his goddess!"

Ian Kane flicked the ash from his cigarette, a cold, playful curve on his lips, "Whatever Vivian Langdon cares about, make her lose it."

"Understood," the subordinate replied.

Ian Kane threw away the cigarette, stood upright, and extinguished the butt, "Go do it quickly."

He stepped up the stairs, just reaching the first floor when he saw blinding lights outside.

A subordinate hurried over.

"President Kane! The police have surrounded the villa! It’s the SWAT team! A big shot, seems brought by Noah Grant!"

"The leading officer says we are suspected of kidnapping!"

Ian Kane’s jaw tightened, contemplating for a moment, "Hold the door, don’t let them in."

As his words fell, he turned upstairs, dialing a phone while heading straight for the room at the far east end of the second floor. He hung up the call at the door.

Pushes the door open.

Inside the room, Justin lay sprawled on the big bed, the gauze on his back stained with blood, his rugged face flushed red from fever, lips pale and dry, hair wet, dangling over his forehead.

Ian Kane leaned one side of his body down, covering Justin’s nape with his large hand, giving a few rubs, "Justin, get up."

Justin, a seasoned player in the underworld, lived a life treading on the edge of danger, awoke instantly at any movement.

Upon seeing Ian Kane, he lazily lowered his head again, rubbing against the pillow before looking at him, grinning to reveal white teeth, jokingly asking, "Bro, all done?"

Ian Kane grabbed a shirt and tossed it onto his face, "The police are here."

"You’re going through the secret passage in the basement to the lakeside pier, the third speedboat, someone’s waiting for you."

On the bed, Justin suddenly sat up, like someone waking from a dream, tossed the shirt aside, lifted his chin to glare at Ian Kane, "You’re asking me to run?"

"Who are you insulting, damn it!"

He stood on the floor, dizziness clouding his mind soon stabilized, "One does the deed, one takes the blame!"

"It was me who kidnapped that woman!"

Ian Kane’s face darkened, eyes sharp, "You leave the country immediately; the Valdanian Bank’s USB token and passport are together, there’s settlement money inside."

Justin turned a blind eye, stepping towards the door, "If I run, won’t the Gu family put you back in trouble?!"

Ian Kane held him back, "I didn’t touch Vera Sheridan, that’s plausible."

But he recalled Vera’s threat to accuse him of kidnapping.

"Justin, if you go in, hell, who’s going to work for me then? Use your brain! Get moving!" he persuaded.

Justin, simple-minded, thought it over and agreed.

He quickly donned his clothes.

...

In front of the villa, numerous SWAT cars, police lights flashing.

The black Cullinan screeched sharply to a halt.

The door swung open, Noah Grant stepped out, exuding a menacing aura.

The police team’s captain immediately stepped forward, handing the tablet to his face, the cold screen light illuminating his tightly drawn jawlines.

"President Grant, here is the preliminary evidence. Mountain road surveillance shows, at 12:30 AM, Ian Kane forcibly took Vera Sheridan into a car, heading here."

The screen clearly played the footage of Vera being rudely dragged into a car by Ian Kane.

Noah Grant’s gaze locked onto the screen, Adam’s apple rolling intensely.

The captain swiped the screen to reveal earlier footage, "Additionally, about 12 hours ago, another surveillance showed Vera being tied hands by Justin and his accomplices, forced into this villa."

This means the surveillance confirms Justin and Ian Kane kidnapped Vera! And Vera might have attempted to escape on the way, but then was dragged back by Ian Kane!

Noah Grant’s lips thinned into a line, palm open, "Give me the loudspeaker."

Before the words finished, a "squeak" sound interrupted.

The heavy carved wooden door of the villa was suddenly pulled open from the inside.