Chapter 464 - 60 Quarantine Deception
Daniel’s POV
I was almost certain my father had orchestrated Sasha’s return solely to make my life miserable, but I needed concrete proof. What was he actually offering her in exchange for this charade? Everyone knew reconciliation was impossible—even if this marriage facade succeeded temporarily, divorce was inevitable. Yet they both persisted with remarkable determination. Why?
"Sasha, Adler himself confirmed I had no prior knowledge about the surveillance van’s contamination," I stated calmly, trying to reason with her as she continued ranting about the lice incident.
"You could have used your personal vehicle, Daniel," she snapped, her eyes blazing with indignation.
I shrugged casually. "Not possible. Both tires were slashed during my last case. The garage was handling repairs at headquarters." The fabrication rolled off my tongue effortlessly.
"Whatever," Sasha dismissed with a wave. "I’ve reconsidered my position and I’m back now. Kick that little whore out because I’m reclaiming our penthouse immediately." She spoke with such presumption, as though the property had always been hers by right.
"That’s absolutely not happening," I declared firmly. "And remember what I warned you—if you go anywhere near her, your father’s shipping operation will receive some very unwelcome visits from federal agents."
Her complexion instantly paled. "Leave my father’s business out of this, Daniel."
"Then keep Lila out of it," I countered steadily. "Be straight with me, Sasha. What actually convinced you to change your mind? It certainly wasn’t about your hair—you would have preferred hiding away until it grew back."
"I simply reassessed the situation," she replied, raising her chin defiantly. "Tomorrow I’ll show up at our building with my belongings. If you don’t want me having a confrontation with your little plaything, remove her first."
"I already told you that’s not going to happen!" My patience was rapidly diminishing.
"What’s it going to be then, Daniel? Because I will create an absolute scene at your building’s entrance." Her threat sparked an idea. I retrieved my phone and snapped her photograph.
"Listen very carefully, Sasha. Starting right now, an unmarked police unit will be stationed at my building entrance around the clock with one specific mandate: preventing you from approaching my girlfriend or causing any disturbances. If you come within fifty feet of my building, they’ll arrest you immediately and transport you to headquarters in their surveillance van. Then you might experience another lice outbreak and lose whatever pathetic strands you have remaining." The threat was precisely calculated to keep her at bay, at least for now.
"Daniel!" Her eyes widened in shock. "You wouldn’t dare do that."
"I just did. Photo and instructions already transmitted to my unit. They follow my orders without question." I slipped the phone back into my jacket with deliberate nonchalance.
"And will you keep your little girlfriend locked away forever?" Sasha challenged. "She’ll have to venture outside eventually."
"Absolutely correct. Rest assured, an unmarked unit will always be in proximity, and you won’t get within shouting distance of her. Only try it if you’re prepared to risk those few pathetic wisps still clinging to your scalp." I maintained complete composure while watching horror spread across her features.
"Daniel, this entire situation needs resolution at some point," Sasha said, desperately searching for an escape route.
"And it will be resolved—entirely on my terms. Now tell me honestly why you abandoned our arrangement." I had regained complete control, which steadied my nerves considerably.
"You’re completely insane!" she huffed indignantly. "I already explained—because of your actions, I was forced to cut my hair, and I refuse to let you escape without consequences."
"My fault? Give me a break, Sasha! You chose to cut it off. Why not wash it thoroughly, use proper treatment, or explore alternative solutions? Cutting wasn’t your only option." Her theatrical tantrum was exhausting me.
"You understand nothing about lice infestations or hair treatment, Daniel. Sybilla assured me that over-the-counter medications don’t eliminate microscopic lice eggs—only cutting would guarantee complete removal." She spoke with absolute certainty.
Internally, I was laughing hysterically. Sybilla had completely lost her mind with this elaborate prank. If Sasha ever discovered the truth, the resulting explosion would be catastrophic. Neither Sasha nor my siblings nor I had ever dealt with lice during childhood, leaving her completely ignorant about standard treatment procedures.
"Fine, Sasha. Let’s move beyond the lice issue before you start scratching again. Just give me the truth—why did you really return?" I pressed harder.
"Can’t you figure it out?" She laughed coldly. "Don’t you have any theories whatsoever?"
"Actually, I’m absolutely certain my father orchestrated this entire scenario," I said, hoping to extract additional information.
"Your father..." She paused theatrically. "He visited me this afternoon and mentioned the family gathering. I was deeply hurt that my devoted husband was in town without visiting me, with no invitation to the family dinner..."
"Sasha, what exactly is my father offering in exchange for making my existence miserable?" I decided complete directness was my most effective approach.
"Your father understands I’m the ideal wife for you. He strongly disapproves of your sordid little affair with that girl," she responded cynically, then locked eyes with me. "Your father will provide me with anything I desire once you return to his sphere of influence."
"’Anything’ is remarkably vague. Be specific about what you want," I demanded.
"Whatever I desire," she replied slowly with a hollow, bitter laugh. I knew she wouldn’t reveal more details.
"You know I won’t return—not to him and definitely not to you. So why continue this charade?"
"Because I want to and because I can! By tomorrow evening, I’ll have your precious little girlfriend running for the mountains, and your beloved police force won’t prevent me. Care to make a wager?" She believed herself in complete control, but I wouldn’t allow that delusion to persist.
"Inserting yourself between my father and me is extremely dangerous territory. You might get seriously hurt in the crossfire. And I’ve already warned you—stay completely away from her. The lice situation will seem absolutely trivial compared to what awaits you in this war." As I spoke, I deliberately scratched my head, knowing exactly how suggestible Sasha had always been. As expected, she immediately mirrored my action.
"Why are you scratching like that?" she asked, suddenly alarmed.
"I was in that surveillance van too. Maybe I’m infected as well, and if so, my car and penthouse are probably contaminated too..." I scratched again, more visibly this time.
"Get out immediately, Daniel! Leave right now! Shave your head completely and don’t return until there’s absolutely zero chance of lice remaining! And get your residence and vehicle professionally disinfected!" Sasha was approaching hysteria.
"That could require considerable time, Sasha. From my understanding, I’ll need medical consultation, prescription medication, and complete quarantine to prevent spreading the infestation further. My case might be significantly worse than yours, considering I spent much longer in the surveillance van." This fabrication bought me invaluable time.
"How long does quarantine typically last?" She had retreated behind the leather armchair, maximizing distance between us.
"Standard quarantine protocol means an extended period at minimum," I replied, scratching again for maximum effect.
"Just leave, Daniel. I’ll contact you later. Get away from me immediately." She practically begged, rushing toward the elevator while frantically scratching her head.
"As you wish," I replied with deep satisfaction, speaking to myself since she had already vanished into the elevator, too consumed with phantom itching to hear my final words.