CHAPTER 211: CHAPTER 211: WATCHING HER EAT A LATE-NIGHT SNACK

When Tanya rushed to the police station, she finally understood what the police meant by "a bit complicated."

The four criminals had varying degrees of injuries, but the external wounds didn’t appear too severe. However, each of them seemed to have experienced a massive shock, their expressions terror-stricken, like frightened birds.

Whenever anyone approached the holding cell, they trembled, muttering, "I don’t know, I really don’t know..."

"We surrender, we surrender! Please spare us..."

"Help, help!!"

Tanya frowned slightly.

The state they were in clearly showed they had been tormented to the breaking point, mentally collapsed.

The officer in charge of the case was Eugene Crawford.

Officer Crawford poured Tanya a glass of water and explained, "These four people are all wanted criminals. They called the police on their own initiative, gave up their location, and asked us to come... rescue them."

Officer Crawford couldn’t help but find it amusing as he said it.

Tanya: "Rescue them?"

"Yes, they don’t even know who they offended. They were halfway buried in concrete, and it took us tremendous effort to dig them out."

Tanya: "..."

Did they get double-crossed?

Officer Crawford continued, "Ms. Sinclair, do you remember six years ago when your husband Vincent Hawthorne was kidnapped, and you went alone with the ransom to rescue him?"

Tanya nodded: "I remember."

For a long time afterward, she had nightmares.

In those dreams, her hands were covered in blood...

Officer Crawford solemnly said, "The mastermind behind the kidnapping, Old Ninth King, whom you gouged an eye out of, has remained at large. We have never caught him. According to these four, they met Old Ninth King while on the run and recognized him as their boss!"

"This attack on you was also planned by Old Ninth King. He must be seeking revenge on you... but these four couldn’t disclose Old Ninth King’s location."

Officer Crawford looked at Tanya concernedly, his voice deep, "We have put out a wanted notice at airports, docks, and highway exits. He won’t get away. But Ms. Sinclair, you should be cautious. Old Ninth King’s target is still you!"

Officer Crawford kindly suggested, "You’d better tell your husband Vincent Hawthorne to arrange some reliable bodyguards for you, since you went to rescue him back then..."

"Vincent and I are divorced now." Tanya calmly interrupted.

"Divorced?" Officer Crawford was stunned, then frowned, his determined face full of confusion, "Having a wife willing to risk her life for him, and he still got a divorce? He owes you his life!"

Officer Crawford had been involved in the case back then too.

The police had even deployed the SWAT team and helicopters. Old Ninth King’s gang was fearless and armed with homemade air guns and explosives.

Not to mention a frail woman like Tanya, even the police negotiators felt shaky going in for talks.

Yet in the end, Tanya went in alone, carrying a box of money...

A wife like that, and he divorced her?

If it were him, even thinking about it would earn him a slap.

Tanya smirked self-mockingly, "Betting on a man’s conscience is the easiest way to lose."

And now, she didn’t care at all.

Officer Crawford sighed; even as an outsider, he felt a pang of sympathy for this woman.

He personally escorted Tanya to the door and arranged for a police officer to take her home.

Officer Crawford apologized, "Ms. Sinclair, these few criminals are mentally unstable, and we can’t be sure if what they say is true. Without sufficient evidence, I can’t get you twenty-four-hour protection. Please be cautious."

"I know, thank you, Officer Crawford."

The police car drove Tanya to the entrance of her community. Tanya thanked the officer and walked inside.

By the roadside, from an inconspicuous black car, a man in black watched Tanya’s figure walk into the community, picked up his phone to report, revealing the Pierce Family crest on his sleeve...

When Tanya returned home, she didn’t turn on the lights. She lay face-up on the sofa, the house so quiet she could hear the faint buzz of electricity.

At this moment, fatigue and loneliness mixed with strands of fear, surged like a tide.

Tanya curled up on the sofa, a self-protective posture.

She took out the Blood Amber Gourd her mother had given her from her bag, pressing it tightly against her chest, feeling like she was a child again, lying in her mother’s arms, the safest, warmest place in the world.

Her grandfather was there too, and the family’s butler, Uncle Vance, could play harmonica wonderfully. Aunt Quill, who cooked for them, had been in a dance troupe when she was younger; even in her forties, she still had a graceful figure, dancing as lightly as a swallow...

Then the house was sealed, and everything was thrown out.

The Sinclair Family collapsed overnight...

Tears silently slipped down from the corners of her tightly closed eyes. Tanya buried her face in the pillow, stifling her sobs.

Four days left!

She was determined to attend Old Master Kendall’s birthday banquet, no matter what!

Tanya clutched the Blood Amber Gourd in her palm, the raised character at the base pressing into her hand.

The hatred gnawed at her bones and heart. She croaked, "Mom, I can’t listen anymore. I want the Lynn Family dead, to make them apologize to you from underground!"

Just then, a phone call came in at the wrong time.

Tanya wiped her tears, glanced at the caller ID, paused slightly, and answered.

"President Pierce..."

The call was from Declan Pierce.

Declan noticed the change in her voice, paused for a moment, then asked, "Were you crying?"

"No, my throat just feels a bit uncomfortable." Tanya tossed out an excuse casually. She got up to turn on the light and asked him, "Is there something you need?"

Declan, in a gentle yet cool voice, asked her, "Do you remember you still owe me a late-night snack?"

Tanya was taken aback, "Now?"

She was just about to say she was too exhausted to go out when she heard Declan, "Open the door."

Tanya: "?"

Suspiciously, she looked through the video doorbell at the entrance, seeing Janne Hayes standing at the door, holding a large bag, smiling innocently at her.

Tanya opened the door.

Janne Hayes: "Ms. Sinclair, this is the supper delivered for you. I’ll take my leave now. Enjoy your meal."

After putting down the items, Janne Hayes left straight away, not giving Tanya Sinclair the chance to speak.

On the other end of the phone, Declan Pierce said lazily, "I didn’t feel like going out today. Let’s do a video call and have supper together."

Tanya Sinclair: "..."

Such a bizarre move, yet when Declan Pierce does it, it somehow feels reasonable.

After all, he’s never been one to follow convention.

Tanya Sinclair was indeed hungry. She put the supper Janne Hayes brought on the table: shrimp crab yam porridge, eight-treasure pastries, and other exquisite single-serving dishes. It’s not much, but enough for her, even with prepared fruits for after the meal.

Declan Pierce hung up the phone and called through video.

On his side, it was dark, no lights on. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the moonlight faintly outlined a silhouette.

It seemed like Declan Pierce was lying on the bed.

"Declan, I can’t see you."

In the darkness, came a man’s soft chuckle, his tone lazy, "You’re quite the dreamer; seeing my face incurs a per-second charge."

Tanya Sinclair: "...Never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything."

This man’s face is truly thick-skinned.

She ate quietly, and on his end, Declan Pierce didn’t make much noise, occasionally there’s a rustle, but due to the limited view, she couldn’t see anything.

Tanya Sinclair couldn’t help but ask, "Declan, aren’t you eating?"

"Just finished."

"Oh."

After a moment, Declan Pierce asked, "Is it good?"

"Delicious."

Each dish was something she liked.

Tanya Sinclair thought that Declan Pierce might really understand her well; otherwise, why does he always get exactly what she likes?

"Declan."

"Hmm?" A simple syllable, tinged with a sleepy nasal tone, inexplicably sexy.

"How do you know I like these?"

He was silent for a moment, then chuckled, "Do you think I’d personally shop? Of course, I have people do it by watching."

Tanya Sinclair: "..."

True.

This round, she counted as overthinking.

After finishing, Tanya Sinclair tidied up the table, sorted the trash, returned, and found the video was still on. This time, Declan Pierce wasn’t even visible.

"Declan?"

She tentatively called out.

Outside the frame, Declan Pierce responded, "Hmm."

Maybe he’s busy.

Tanya Sinclair said, "If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up now."

"Tanya Sinclair." The man’s deep, magnetic voice called her name, "Don’t forget what I taught you: whoever insults you, break their mouth; whoever hits you, break their hand. If you can’t fight back..."

"Complain to you." Tanya Sinclair chimed in, smiling silently.

Declan Pierce chuckled, followed by a suppressed light cough, "Not bad, you’re quick at replying now."

"Do you have a cold?"

"A bit." He didn’t deny it, frankly coughed twice, "The cold medicine makes me drowsy, hanging up now."

"Okay. Goodnight, President Pierce."

The woman’s soft tone slowly spread in the silent, tranquil bedroom.

"Goodnight, Tanya Sinclair."

The call cut off.

The whole room fell back into dead silence.

Declan Pierce’s tall figure sank into the sofa, the dark red sofa under the lamp shone bright as if soaked with blood.

His left hand was resting on the side table, a needle inserted into his vein, continuously extracting blood from his body.

Declan Pierce coughed twice more, his lips slightly pale.

Seth Yates in his suit stood by, calculating the time, then called to stop.

"It’s done."

The blood-extracting needle withdrew from Declan Pierce’s body, its hole wide enough to be visible.

The doctor carefully packed the two bags of blood into a medical box.

Seth Yates bowed respectfully to Declan Pierce: "It’s been another hard night for you, Second Young Master. We’ll take our leave now."

Declan Pierce didn’t bother to even lift an eyelid.

Seth Yates paused at the door, turned back: "Second Young Master, Ms. Sinclair is very pretty, but she doesn’t quite suit you."

Declan Pierce, expressionless, grabbed a metal ornament beside him and hurled it. Seth Yates dodged quickly, or he’d have a hole in his head.

"Second Young Master, back for so long, yet still so ill-tempered, it’s unsuitable."

Declan Pierce twitched his cold lips, murderous intent instantly gathering in his eyes, scarlet and terrifying.

"Not only am I ill-tempered, I can be ruthless too. Does Assistant Yates want to try, or does Zeke Pierce want to have a go personally?"

Seth Yates’s face showed a subtle change, but quickly returned to normal.

Declan Pierce’s voice was chilly as water, heavy with hostility: "Don’t let me hear Tanya Sinclair’s name from your mouths again. You won’t want to know the consequences."