Chapter 1808 - 105: Hastings’ Plan to Split Up the Lovers (3)
Chapter 1808 - 105: Hastings’ Plan to Split Up the Lovers (3)
Arthur squeezed a slice of lemon into his cup of red tea: "Then you might be disappointed. I did go to that place, and I had quite a good time."
Fiona originally thought that even if Arthur did go, he would definitely deny it. In fact, she would rather Arthur lie about it, so that at least she could have a reason to deceive herself.
But among the ten thousand responses she imagined from Arthur, she never expected him to admit it so openly.
Fiona’s smile froze on her face: "Are you... sure? Darling, I think, were you half-asleep that day? Or, oh, I know, you must be joking with me again, you rascal."
Arthur raised an eyebrow at her: "Why would I joke about something like this? Ledley and I really did have a good time that day."
"Ledley?" Fiona was thunderstruck: "You..."
Of course, she knew about Ledley’s little hobby, after all, it was she who told Arthur about Ledley’s non-mainstream sexual orientation.
But she never thought that this piece of information would one day land her in trouble.
"Ledley?!" she repeated through gritted teeth, her voice so loud that even the waiter downstairs couldn’t help but look up towards the room: "Are you saying you took that little rosy-cheeked rascal to Yellow Chrysanthemum Street? And you both had quite the fun?"
"Don’t make it sound so dreadful, Fiona. I just wanted to see if his courage was as small as you said."
"Courage?" Fiona’s eyes were practically shooting flames: "I think you wanted to see if I could survive a heart attack! Arthur Hastings, I told you about Ledley’s little kink, not so you could take him for a live demonstration! I swear to God, if Ledley King sets foot in the Nightingale Mansion again, I’ll have the girls block every entrance and exit for him!"
"You actually, you actually took Ledley to Yellow Chrysanthemum Street!" Fiona’s face was already turning purple, clenching her molars, with a vein throbbing at her temple, she was like a powder keg about to explode: "Arthur Hastings, even if you went to the filthiest brothel in the Soho District and played dirty games with a maid of some relative, I could tolerate it! But you took a man to the inn I manage, you’re spitting in my face, crapping on my head!"
"Fiona." Arthur casually set down his teacup, his tone as calm as discussing the weather: "I didn’t do anything with him."
"You! You! You still dare to say that!" Fiona’s hand was already on the knife hidden at her waist: "You took him to the inn and did nothing? Do you think I spent all these years in London for nothing? Did you both go to the inn for a field trip?!"
"Listen to me first." Sensing the danger, Arthur stood up slowly, realizing that the joke might have gone too far: "I just had Ledley make a contact for me."
"Is it necessary to go to Yellow Chrysanthemum Street for something like that?" Fiona’s emotions urged her to believe, but reason told her not to let this guy off: "Don’t think you can weasel out of this today!"
Arthur sighed, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat and pulling out a small note before handing it over.
Fiona took the note suspiciously, her eyes immediately scanning the name at the top—Thomas Gath.
"What is this..."
"Don’t you also agree that in information trading, compatibility and shared interests are key?" Arthur said, "Young Thomas Gath is a regular at the Nightingale Mansion. You also know that guy. He doesn’t believe in God, doesn’t listen to the police, doesn’t lack money and doesn’t care about money, but if you’re fair-skinned, well-dressed, and blink at him twice, he’ll give up his grandma’s birth certificate."
Fiona frowned, half of her anxiety eased: "So you sent Ledley to his death? I know exactly what kind of bastard Thomas Gath is. Are you sure Ledley can handle it?"
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