When the Family Reads the Fake Heiress‘ Mind
Chapter 201 Ripping The Bandaid Off
Finished
“Give me a little time,” Queenie said calmly, adjusting her breathing as she tried to suppress her emotions. “I’ll interrogate her as soon as possible. If she’s cleared, I’ll personally make sure she’s returned home safe and sound.”
She was unusually fixated on interrogating Jean.
Carl narrowed his eyes and watched her without giving a clear response.
Queenie pressed her lips together and continued, “Even if you let her go now, I won’t stop.”
Her eyes swept over Jean, glinting with a cold, obsessive light. “You know me. I never back down until I get what I want… I’ll keep watching this kid. I’ll find more cracks.”
Jean’s eyes widened slightly in shock.
What the hell is wrong with this psycho? She’s going to stalk me?
Being watched like that? She might as well be in prison.
She sighed reflexively, her eyes drifting upward–only to lock eyes with Carl’s deep, unreadable gaze.
At some point, he had turned to look at her.
He studied her with a cool, detached expression, his thoughts hidden behind a stony face.
Look at him, pretending to be all mysterious… Ugh.
Carl: ?
Can’t count on anyone. Better rip off the bandage fast than drag this out.
Jean clenched her fingers, suddenly steeling herself. She looked straight at Queenie and spoke with force.
“Enough-”
“I’ll go with you. I’m willing to be investigated.”
Queenie raised an eyebro
Prised.
Carl, on the other hand, wasn’t.
Judging by Jean’s inner monologue, this girl absolutely hated being watched. She would rather be take for questioning than have Queenie breathing down her neck.
Since she’d made the choice herself, Carl said nothing more.
Truthfully, the idea that he’d even considered letting Jean go just now–that was the real problem. That
wasn’t like him at all.
He never let personál feelings get in the way.
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15:37 Mon, 5 May •
Chapter 201 Ripping The Bandaid Off
༤ ཏཱི 56% #
Finished
“That’s more like it, little one,” Queenie said with satisfaction, the corners of her mouth curving into a faint smile.
Carl, as usual, stayed silent.
Jean was seething. She glared at both of them and said with a cold smile, “If you’ve got nothing to hide, you don’t have to fear the shadows. I’ve got nothing to be afraid of–go ahead and interrogate me.”
“But you better do it quickly. Don’t waste my time.”
Jean didn’t walk out of that alley.
Instead, she followed Queenie and Carl down a narrow path that led into an unfamiliar, secluded corner of the city.
There, a matte–black van was waiting.
Without hesitation, Queenie pushed Jean into the back.
She kept a close eye on her, watching like a hawk in case Jean tried anything funny.
Jean instinctively retreated to the farthest corner of the van, curling up in a defensive posture. Queenie sat
between them. next to her, though she left some space
Carl took the front seat alone.
With the rumble of the engine, the van began to move.
Their destination-
The headquarters of the Secret Service.
To the average person, the Secret Service was already shrouded in mystery and power. Its headquarters? Even more unreachable.
But Jean felt surprisingly calm.
She leaned her head to one side, resting it against the dim window.
The light inside the van was dull. The air felt just as heavy.
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