Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

Her smile vanished. Nora Ainsworth took out the key, unlocked the door, and shoved it open with a sudden push.

Catherine Callahan was pushed to the doorway by the Men in Black. When she looked inside, her expression shifted wildly, and she shrieked in terror, "No!"

Nora Ainsworth was determined not to let her go. Her voice was soft, but it made Catherine Callahan’s blood run cold.

"Push her in."

Those three words shattered what little pride Catherine Callahan had left.

Her legs went weak, her feet feeling as if they were glued to the floor, unable to move.

"I don’t want to go in... I don’t want to go in!" she shrieked, shaking her head. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared inside in terror.

A smirk touched Nora Ainsworth’s lips. "Throw her in and lock the door."

The Men in Black lifted Catherine Callahan and tossed her inside.

A terrified scream echoed out, and then the door was locked.

Nora Ainsworth turned her head slightly and said, "Whether she lives or dies is up to fate. Let her enjoy herself in there. We’ll head back. We can come back in a few days to see if she’s dead."

"Yes! This way, Young Madam."

Nora Ainsworth walked toward the car. One of the Men in Black opened the door for her, and she settled into the back seat.

This house was a secret experimental facility recently built by Quentin Grant, used to dispose of traitors and punish his enemies.

Inside the door was a meter-deep, cellar-like pit.

It housed thousands of non-venomous snakes and poisonous scorpions.

The house was like a large iron cage, with only a dense network of tiny holes for air exchange. It was as dark as hell inside. Even if the snakes and scorpions didn’t kill you, the fear would.

For Catherine Callahan to end up in a place like this was a truly miserable fate. However, considering what she had done in the past, one might feel this treatment was merciful. At least she wasn’t being flayed alive.

When Nora Ainsworth returned home, only Quentin Grant was in the living room.

"Where’s Mom?"

"She went to her room. She didn’t seem to be in good spirits, so Sierra went to keep her company."

Nora sat down beside him, rested her head on his shoulder, and took his hand. "I threw her into that cabin on the mountain. Do you think I’m too cruel?"

"No," he said softly. "This world isn’t about what’s cruel and what isn’t. Others can be cruel to you, and you’re just returning the favor. I didn’t realize it before, but now I do. If you hadn’t been so lucky, always escaping death by a hair’s breadth, would she feel even an ounce of guilt right now? No. Because for someone heartless, guilt would be a sign of abnormality."

"I agree. I told the Men in Black to check in a few days to see if she’s dead. After dealing with her, Quentin, I finally feel a little bit more at ease. She’s always been a pot-stirrer. Without her, I can finally stop wasting my energy."

"Right now, we need to focus on dealing with the situation in Grestin. For the sake of the bigger picture, I won’t send so many of our men to fight them head-on. Even if his subordinates are no match for ours, there will still be casualties. So, I’ve changed my strategy."

"What strategy?" Nora asked.

"He dared to harm my son, so I’ll make sure he can never have a son of his own."

"Are you thinking of... If you do that, won’t he hate you even more? Couldn’t he get desperate and try something even more vicious against us?"

Quentin Grant gave her a meaningful look. "I’ve already thought of that, and I’ve prepared a backup plan. If he lashes out, then I’ll just give him a shot of anesthetic and make him watch, wide-eyed, as I deal with him..."

Nora squeezed his hand. "Quentin, once Elmer has recovered, I’ll focus on teaching the two kids everything from morals to marksmanship. I’ll hire tutors for them. Our sons are not like ordinary children. Being your sons, the risks they face are much greater."

"I’m glad you think so. The children are young and need to be taught. Go spend some time with them. I’m going to send agents to Grestin. This time, I’m going to make Toby Dalton understand what it feels like to never be able to have children!"

Toby Dalton was closely monitoring the news from Fravia.

But all day, his spies reported nothing unusual, aside from Quentin Grant dealing with Claire Sinclair and Catherine Callahan.

Thinking about how Quentin Grant had stayed home all day, he figured that Quentin probably wouldn’t risk so many of his men’s lives for his son. He had been worrying for nothing.

Saphira Sutton came out of the bathroom, wearing a sheer dress.

She saw him half-reclined, holding a wine glass, lost in thought.

"What are you thinking about now?"

Toby Dalton downed the red wine in his glass, then set it on the table and looked at her. "Quentin Grant, of course."

"But he hasn’t made a move, has he? Why are you worrying for nothing?" Saphira said dismissively. "He’s not all that, in my opinion."

"Not all that?" Toby Dalton gave a faint smile. "I wish I could really believe that. But you truly underestimate him. The Grant Group is one of the top four corporations in the world. He took control of such a massive company at a young age. Do you think some nobody could do that? Besides, Quentin Grant is a lot smarter than we are. He’s decisive and ruthless in business, and he’s no pushover in his private life, either. Otherwise, how could he possibly manage all the employees in the Grant Group’s branches around the world?"

"I’ve already calmed down, but now you’re the one who’s worried sick," Saphira said, leaning against his chest. "We have so many men on guard. Is he really going to show up in the middle of the night and attack?"

"I just can’t figure out what he’s thinking right now. The more I can’t read his intentions, the more I feel like he’s already planning something."

"Alright, stop thinking about him for now. You need to focus on Lillian Bancroft. Quentin Grant foiled your last plan. This time, you have to use this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get rid of him. Otherwise, your superiors will become more and more disappointed in you."

He reached out, lifted her flimsy dress, and turned to press himself down on top of her. "I’m only just starting to get over it," he said. "Before, Quentin Grant’s woman did a better job of playing you than you do. When she first left, I was filled with a rage I couldn’t vent. I felt like a clown that Quentin Grant was just toying with."

"You were just too stupid. No matter how good the impersonation, there are always flaws. You were just too blind to see them."

"Saphira..." Toby Dalton pinched her chin. "I hope that while you’re using me to get revenge for your brother, you don’t pull the same crap you did before. Otherwise, I really will kill you with my own two hands. Don’t forget, I can live perfectly well without you."

Her eyes turned sultry. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back.

"I told you, I’ll prove it with a child. I don’t just want you to help me get revenge for my brother."

"Good."

He reached out, tore off her underwear, and they became intimately entangled.

In just a few moments, the room was filled with boundless passion.

Late that night, the two of them lay side by side, naked.

The guards on duty at the door fell silently to the ground. Two nimble, shadowy figures quietly blew a stream of white smoke into the room through a tube. Two minutes later, the door was opened and then closed again.

The beam of a small flashlight swept across the bed.

Two figures dressed in black from head to toe stood by the bed. A woman reached out, slipped a hair tie off Saphira’s wrist, and then tightly bound Toby Dalton’s privates with it. Like tying up hair, she wrapped it around many times. The whole process took less than a minute.

Then, the two of them left the way they came, making a clean getaway.

It was all done without anyone noticing.

The man and woman on the bed slept on until morning, still spread-eagled.

The guards at the door woke up, realized they had fallen asleep, and immediately scrambled to their feet, not daring to slack off again.

They had barely straightened up when they heard a roar of fury from inside.

The two men at the door flinched and exchanged a look.

Toby Dalton sat up and found a green hair tie wrapped around himself. It was clearly Saphira’s.

But that wasn’t the most important part.

Toby Dalton poked it with his hand but couldn’t feel a thing, as if it wasn’t even part of his body. Panicked, he yelled at Saphira, "When did you put this hair tie on me!"

Saphira sat up groggily, looked down at him, and couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, when did I put that on you? This is hilarious."

He reached out and yanked the hair tie off. Both of them froze.

The smile vanished from Saphira’s face. "Don’t tell me the hair tie..."

He threw on his clothes and yelled for a doctor immediately. When the doctor learned of the situation, he frowned deeply. "Young Master Dalton, forgive my bluntness, but this has already become necrotic. The only option is surgical removal."

"What!" Saphira was dumbfounded. "Toby, I... I don’t remember when I did this to you. I don’t remember at all..."

Furious and humiliated, Toby Dalton slapped Saphira hard across the face. "Bitch!"

With that one word, any love or affection he might have had vanished into thin air. Perhaps he had always deluded himself into believing he loved Saphira. But in truth, whether it was love or not, it was just a one-sided, stubborn belief. He didn’t really know.

Saphira clutched her face, feeling deeply wronged. "Why did you hit me? I have no memory of it at all! Don’t you remember we fell asleep together?"

"Who knows if you did it in the middle of the night for fun! Was there a third person in here? Who else could it have been but you!"

For a moment, Saphira was speechless. She truly had no idea what had happened.

"Young Master Dalton, surgery is the priority right now. The hair tie was on for too long. It’s beyond saving."

Toby Dalton pulled on his pants and stormed out of the room.

Saphira was left alone in the room, sitting on the bed on the verge of tears.

’I really have no memory of doing it! What good would it do me?’

’What am I supposed to do now?’

Saphira hurriedly got dressed and washed up. She paced back and forth in the room, not knowing what to do—whether to go check on him or just wait there.