Chapter 467 - 464: Heart-pounding
Chloe Marshall froze, then turned around sheepishly. "Sorry, I’m in the wrong restroom."
She took a step forward and glanced at the restroom sign. That’s when she realized she wasn’t the one who was wrong—he was. This was clearly the women’s restroom.
"I told you to stop!" the man behind her said, walking hurriedly toward her.
Of course, Chloe Marshall didn’t just stand there. She sprinted out in her high heels, her heart pounding with guilt. She had overheard something she wasn’t supposed to.
Seeing her run, the man gave chase.
Chloe Marshall couldn’t run fast in her heels, so she kicked them off and bolted toward the door of their private room.
Just as she knocked, the man caught up.
He grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth and nose.
Chloe Marshall smashed the high heels she was holding over his head. He cursed but didn’t let go.
The door swung open. Seeing the struggle, Nora Ainsworth pulled out a knife and plunged it into the man’s back.
He let out a bloodcurdling scream and released his grip on Chloe Marshall.
Nora Ainsworth grabbed Chloe Marshall and they immediately ran for it.
The injured man didn’t give chase. Instead, he pulled out his phone and made a call.
There was no time to wait for the elevator. The two of them scrambled down the stairwell.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they saw a large group of people burst in through the entrance in the distance.
"Nora, this way!"
Chloe Marshall pointed to a space under the ground-floor stairs, and the two of them quickly hid inside.
Nora Ainsworth immediately pulled out her phone and called Quentin Grant. "Quentin, we’re at the bar next to the airport! Bring people, quickly! Something’s happened."
Just as she hung up, Chloe Marshall whispered, "Nora, tell him to bring a lot of people. They’re going to assassinate Lillian Bancroft."
Nora Ainsworth asked, "How do you know?"
"I overheard it in the restroom. That’s why that guy was chasing me."
"This is huge. If something happens to Lillian Bancroft in our country, the consequences will be unimaginable..." She took out her phone again and quickly composed a text to Quentin Grant.
The message had just been sent when a flurry of footsteps rushed in their direction. The two women held their breath.
The footsteps hurried past above them, evidently heading upstairs.
Just as the two of them breathed a sigh of relief, a phone’s ringtone suddenly shattered the silence.
Nora Ainsworth clamped a hand over her phone, but it was too late. They had been exposed.
The footsteps that had just gone upstairs were now rushing back down at high speed.
"Come out!"
Nora Ainsworth gripped Chloe Marshall’s hand tightly as they slowly stood up.
The injured man, enduring the searing pain, recognized them instantly. "It’s them!" he shouted. "Grab them!"
Nora Ainsworth’s expression was cold. "Who are you? What right do you have to seize us?"
"You bitch, you dared to stab me? Who else would I grab? Enough talk, take them away!"
Nora Ainsworth slapped away the man’s outstretched hand. "Get off! We can walk ourselves."
They were led out of the stairwell and taken directly into the ground-floor lobby.
Everyone who had been in the lobby was instantly kicked out.
The stylish, atmospheric bar fell silent in an instant.
"Execute these two women," the injured man roared. "What are you standing around for? Do it now! Dammit, and get me to a hospital, now!"
Just as his men were about to act, another man ran in from the entrance. "Big Bro is here!"
The injured man, trembling in pain, gritted his teeth. "Let’s go. We’ll greet him."
He had barely taken two steps when a group of people walked in through the entrance.
Nora Ainsworth and Chloe Marshall looked over, and their hearts tightened.
They didn’t recognize the newcomers, but judging by their aura, they were clearly not ordinary people.
The man in the lead was about six-foot-one, dressed in a black trench coat and sunglasses. A glittering diamond stud adorned his left ear, and he walked with a distinctive, confident stride.
This man was definitely trouble.
The injured man grimaced in pain as he stepped forward. "Big Bro, it was these two women. One of them overheard me talking, and the other one stabbed me with a knife."
Toby Dalton glanced at him. "Getting stabbed by a woman just shows how useless you are."
A chill ran down the injured man’s spine. Forgetting the wound on his back, he dropped to his knees with a THUD.
"Big Bro, please give me another chance! I swear I’ll never let something so stupid happen again!"
Toby Dalton took off his sunglasses and looked at him. "Since it’s already happened, you need to think about how to handle what comes next. Send people to the airport. I’ll take care of things here. And get that wound on your back treated."
"Yes, yes, Boss! I’ll handle it."
With that, he took his men and left.
Toby Dalton walked over to Nora Ainsworth and Chloe Marshall. "I know who you two are."
"We don’t know you."
"I’m Toby Dalton."
Those two words made the color drain from Nora Ainsworth’s face. "Toby Dalton... so it’s you?"
She had heard that name before.
If Fravia was Quentin Grant’s domain, with his fame spreading across the globe, then Grestin was Toby Dalton’s.
The man was brilliant. She recalled Quentin Grant mentioning him once. He had inherited his family’s enterprise at a young age, shouldering the entire burden himself, and his personal guard was an elite force.
"That’s me." A corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. "I didn’t expect it to be you two. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Quentin Grant. I wonder if he’s doing well."
"Of course he is. And he’ll stay that way, as long as you don’t show up."
Toby Dalton sat on the sofa and crossed his legs. "Please, ladies, have a seat."
Nora Ainsworth and Chloe Marshall sat down.
"Are you going to let us go or not?"
"I’m in a difficult position myself, Miss Ainsworth. Seeing as I’m in such a bind, why don’t you just chat with me here for a couple of hours? Just two hours. Once my business is finished, I promise I won’t give you any trouble. I’ll let you go."
Chloe Marshall scoffed. "Two hours? Do you take us for fools? You’re going to assassinate Lillian Bancroft. You’re just trying to stir up trouble. I suggest you reconsider. The saying about dropping a rock on your own foot isn’t just an empty threat."
"That’s right, I am going to assassinate her. You think I can’t do it?" His voice was laced with a chilling coldness. "I’ve been preparing for this assassination for years—ever since she came to power. Did you really think I’d give up, or go back home a failure? You underestimate me. I don’t fight battles I’m not certain I can win."
Chloe Marshall’s heart was gripped with anxiety. "There has to be a reason for killing someone. Why are you so determined to see her dead?"
He took the wine glass his subordinate handed him and took a small sip. "Of course there’s a reason. But I have no intention of telling you."
"Even if you don’t say it, we can guess. It’s for the leadership position in Harrowin, isn’t it?"
He chuckled lightly. "I have money, power, and men. I have everything. Why would I want that miserable position? You work yourself to death over major affairs every day, and if you do a bad job, people curse you out. I’m not interested."
Nora Ainsworth calculated the timing in her head. "You’ve planned this well," she said. "You don’t care about the position. You just want to provoke a conflict between Fravia and Harrowin so that Grestin can reap the rewards. If Lillian Bancroft dies here, it will definitely be Fravia’s responsibility. Your little scheme is perfectly calculated."
His long, narrow phoenix eyes crinkled into a smile, and he clapped his hands a few times. "As expected of Quentin Grant’s woman. You certainly have a sharp mind. But even if you know, I’m still going to do it. And after all my planning, I just had to run into you two spoilers."
Chloe Marshall was frantic with worry.
Silly’s arrival at the Alveria airport tonight hadn’t been in the news. Fravia hadn’t cleared the area for a formal welcome, so the airport was crowded with all sorts of people. If a shooting occurred, it would inevitably cause chaos. And since it was a private visit, Lillian Bancroft definitely wouldn’t have brought many people with her.
This greatly increased the chance of an incident.
But then Chloe Marshall remembered that Nora had texted Young Master Grant, and she felt a little more at ease.
"Besides this, there’s probably a personal reason too, isn’t there?" Nora Ainsworth said, looking at him with certainty.
Toby Dalton clearly didn’t want to say more. "That’s not something you need to know. Just wait for the news."
He had just finished speaking when a commotion erupted at the entrance.
Nora Ainsworth and Chloe Marshall looked over in unison. It was Quentin Grant.
His face was taut as he entered with a cold smirk. "Well, if it isn’t Young Master Dalton. I wonder, what exactly do you think you’re doing, keeping these two women trapped here?"
Toby Dalton stood up and turned to the side. "Young Master Grant, ever the well-informed one. Don’t worry, I have no ill intentions. I was merely inviting these two lovely ladies for a drink and a chat."
Quentin Grant gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "If you wanted to have a drink and a chat, you could have just come to our home. Besides, I don’t recall them being acquainted with you."
"That’s just something you don’t know, Young Master Grant."
Nora Ainsworth couldn’t be bothered to expose his lie. She gave Quentin Grant a meaningful look, and when he seemed confused, she walked up to him and whispered in his ear, in a voice only they could hear, "He’s going to assassinate Lillian Bancroft. Did you send people to the airport?"
Quentin Grant’s warm breath tickled her ear. "The matter has already been reported. They’ve probably dispatched people. But I brought a lot of men with me, waiting outside."
"Distant water can’t quench a nearby thirst. You keep him stalled here. Chloe and I will take some of your men to the airport."
Quentin Grant put his arm around her shoulder and nodded. His voice became louder. "Still whispering secrets to me in a place like this? Aren’t you afraid people will laugh?"
Nora Ainsworth stood on her toes and planted a few kisses on his cheek. "The two little ones are playing at their grandmother’s. I need to go pick them up. Let’s go home."
Toby Dalton’s eyes flickered with a myriad of thoughts. "It’s a rare occasion to see you, Young Master Grant. What’s the hurry? Not staying for a few drinks?"
"You have a point." He sat down with an air of casual confidence and said, "You two head home first."
"How can we let them leave first? Waiting a little longer won’t hurt anything."
Nora Ainsworth understood now. ’Even though Quentin Grant and I know what he’s here to do, we can’t say it out loud. He can be candid with Chloe and me, but not with Quentin. That means if the truth comes out, this bar will be plunged into a bloodbath tonight. Quentin probably wants us to leave before he intervenes—the danger for us here is extremely high—but Toby Dalton clearly isn’t going to let that happen.’
This created a standoff, with everyone putting on an act.