I Faked My Death—Now I Have to Tame the Crazy Men I Left Behind

Chapter 127 - 125: Joining Forces to Kill Silas Grant

Yates Donovan snapped out of it and sized up the man across from him. He wasn’t angry, just thought it was odd.

"It’s only been a day. When did you become so nasty, Mr. Adler?"

The man sized him up unabashedly.

Simon Adler’s gaze was aloof, still wearing that same look of someone who couldn’t be bothered by anything.

"Like a dog guarding its food."

Just as Yates Donovan had commented, his words today were nasty and grating.

Yates Donovan shot back, "Did you just down a bottle of pesticide? That mouth of yours sounds like it was dipped in poison."

"..."

Yates Donovan scoffed. As he turned to leave, he tossed a line over his shoulder. "Right. You’re so noble, so high and mighty. You think love is a load of crap."

He pushed open the heavy fire escape door. A second before it shut, he glanced back, his cold eyes fixed on Simon Adler. "You’d better stay this way."

He grinned, a smile hiding a knife. "Otherwise, I’ll have her sic her dogs on you."

BANG. He let go, and the door swung shut on its own.

Simon Adler snapped back to reality, his face darkened.

’Psycho.’

’Does he really think Mia Grant is some kind of precious treasure everyone adores?’

’Hah. How amusing.’

’Not unless I’ve lost my mind.’

’Otherwise, there’s no way in hell I’d ever stoop to being some "boy toy" for that little brat.’

「In the office.」

Silas Grant was still settling accounts with Kian Keller.

"You gave her the gun?"

Kian Keller sat in the chair opposite him. After standing and walking for so long, his leg was already throbbing with a dull ache. Cold sweat soaked his shirt, but thankfully his jacket hid it, so he didn’t look too disheveled.

"’It was me.’ He lowered his gaze and spoke flatly, his voice carrying its usual lifeless tone. ’You can barely protect yourself right now. You should meddle less... in other people’s affairs.’"

His calf muscle suddenly spasmed. The man’s voice quavered for a moment before he paused and regained his composure.

Silas Grant’s gaze shifted downward. A desk separated them, so he couldn’t see Kian’s leg.

But he could clearly see the hand clutching the cane.

Veins bulged on the back of his hand, and he gripped it so hard his fingertips turned white.

After a single glance, Silas Grant looked away, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "Look at you talking. You’re not in much better shape yourself, are you?"

"Your leg injury is that severe, yet you’re traveling far without a wheelchair. Be careful you don’t end up with permanent damage. You might have to use a cane for the rest of your life."

They were old friends, after all. Of course they had to show concern for one another.

"’You too,’ Kian Keller said, staring at Silas’s right hand. ’The government offers disability benefits now. Don’t forget to apply.’"

"BWAHAHAHAHAHA."

The moment Yates Donovan walked in, he heard the two half-cripples jabbing at each other’s weak spots, each one’s words nastier than the last.

He couldn’t help it and laughed until his stomach ached.

Two bone-chilling glares shot in his direction. Yates Donovan just grinned and waved a hand, his tone devoid of any real apology. "My bad, my bad. I really couldn’t help myself."

’One with a mangled hand, the other with a ruined leg, and here they were, pressing each other’s buttons.’

’It just made him want to laugh.’

"See? It takes true friends to show this much concern for one another."

He gave the two men a thumbs-up, praising their indomitable spirit in the face of physical disability.

"Where is she?"

Silas Grant was long accustomed to Yates Donovan’s antics.

"’Next door.’ Yates Donovan’s shoulders were still shaking with suppressed laughter. He pointed toward the adjacent room, then walked over and plopped down on the sofa. ’Hayes Hughes is with her. I couldn’t possibly be a third wheel.’"

’Better to make everyone miserable than to suffer alone.’

’Let’s all enjoy this together.’

’Besides, he wasn’t the only one wary of this "white moonlight’s" devastating impact.’

Yates Donovan grabbed an apple from the table and took a bite.

Once he’d had his laugh, he got down to business. "So, how’s the chat going? Don’t tell me I was gone all this time and you two were just trading pleasantries?"

"I know you two are close, but come on, read the room."

"’Silas, I made a huge sacrifice for you.’ He pointed at Kian Keller’s back with a look of disgust. ’Otherwise, I never would’ve contacted him.’"

"But..."

Yates Donovan’s gaze drifted upward, lingering on Silas Grant for a few seconds before a smile spread across his face. "You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself, though."

Silas Grant leaned back, meeting his gaze with a faint, placid smile. "It’s fine. Not as carefree as you two, though."

Kian Keller had no idea what new passive-aggressive game the two of them were playing, but he sensed something was off.

Fortunately, Yates Donovan didn’t seem inclined to pursue it. Like he said, business came first.

"So, Silas, what have you decided? Your old man is getting on in years. Maybe it’s time to pack him up and send him somewhere else to live out his twilight years."

"Somewhere else? Where did you have in mind?"

Yates Donovan shifted his foot, his leather shoe grinding into the carpet as he gave a cruel smile. "Under the ground, of course."

"’That’s my grandfather you’re talking about. You’re asking me to move against my own grandfather?’ Silas Grant’s brow twitched. ’Aren’t you afraid you won’t make it out of Portia alive?’"

Yates Donovan threw up his hands. "The old man isn’t here. He can’t see your dutiful grandson act."

"Actually, before I came, the monk and I had a little chat."

"As your friends, we have two options for you."

"’Oh?’ Silas Grant watched them with great interest."

’What a coincidence. Mia just gave me two options as well.’

’So many choices today.’

Yates Donovan stood up and walked to the desk. He rested a hand on Kian Keller’s shoulder, and together they faced Silas Grant.

Kian Keller glanced at the hand on his shoulder. "Get your paw off me."

Far from removing it, Yates Donovan gave his shoulder a pat.

Kian Keller’s face was grim as he raised his cane.

A second before it came crashing down, Yates Donovan leaped back.

"Tsk."

’Not worth the trouble.’

Yates Donovan braced himself on the desk with one hand. "Option one: you handle it yourself. If you need us, just say the word. For the sake... of old friends, we’ll do our best to cooperate."

He had been about to say Mia’s name, but on second thought, he decided not to drag her into this.

"’And if I refuse?’ Silas Grant’s eyes crinkled into a smile."

"’Then—’ Yates Donovan leaned in and lowered his voice, ’—we’ll see you and the old man off together.’"

For a moment, the room fell silent. Even the air seemed to freeze.

"Pfft." Silas Grant looked up, his chest vibrating with a silent laugh. He took off his glasses with one hand as if he’d just heard the funniest joke of the year. Even his perpetually indifferent features were tinged with amusement.

His deep eyes glinted. He clasped his hands together and looked at his two old friends, his face showing no sign of anger.

No one could tell whether he truly didn’t care or if he was brewing a storm.

His thoughts were an abyss, impossible to fathom.

Even those who knew him well couldn’t always figure him out.

He was a cautious hunter.

He was just used to hiding his rifle behind his back, a master of disguise.

When it came down to it, he was the truly ruthless one, the one who could kill without batting an eye.

Silas Grant saw that Kian Keller’s expression was calm, which meant that Yates Donovan was telling the truth.

He smirked. "I never thought I’d see the day. Me, managing to get you two rivals to shake hands and make up. This calls for a celebration."

"’Hey now,’ Yates Donovan disagreed. ’If you handle it yourself, I’d kick him to the curb in a heartbeat. I’m on your side, brother-in-law~’"

Silas Grant’s eyes went cold.