James Grant remained expressionless, loosened his tie with one hand, got into the car decisively, then closed the door without a word and slammed the accelerator, causing the car engine to roar loudly.
People beside the car automatically stepped aside.
"James Grant, you, you listen to me, it’s not like that..."
Matthew Sullivan hurriedly pleaded.
His hands and feet were tied, sitting in the passenger seat, but the car door was wide open.
Looking over, there was a cliff and the sea beside him.
In the next moment, James Grant’s back tightened, fingers clenched the steering wheel tightly, and without hesitation, he stomped on the gas pedal.
The car accelerated like a released arrow, speeding fast.
With the door half open, the mountain winds roared wildly.
Matthew Sullivan felt like he was airborne, the fear of weightlessness made him scream piercingly.
The desperate screams echoed throughout the mid-mountain area.
But the man in the driver’s seat remained expressionless, cold as if dealing with Death himself.
A sinister face, with a sickly appearance, his dark eyes squinted more and more.
The murderous intent and madness in his eyes grew increasingly rampant and perverse.
The car sped to the point of flying, Matthew Sullivan was nearly scared unconscious, his whole body felt frozen, not daring to move for fear of accidentally falling out and tumbling into the sea.
James Grant drove around the mid-mountain twice, stopping sharply on the last circle.
Matthew Sullivan rolled out of the car entirely.
In the next second, he vomited violently in his terror.
Matthew Sullivan shook vigorously all over, looking pathetic and disgraced. The rightful source is novel(ꜰ)ire.net
James Grant got out of the car, hands in his pockets, expressionless.
He looked down at the already terrified and incoherent Matthew Sullivan, a coldness like poisoned ice spilled from his throat, his voice sounding like the death knell.
"Do you want to try again?"
Matthew Sullivan was utterly terrified of him now.
The man in front of him was simply a madman with a death wish! Lunatic!
Matthew Sullivan kneeled on the ground, begging for mercy: "I don’t dare anymore! I really don’t dare anymore!"
James Grant glanced at him coldly and scornfully, then turned back to the car, followed by his men who also got into the cars, none of them paying him attention.
The exhaust from the car sprayed onto Matthew Sullivan’s face as James Grant drove away.
Matthew Sullivan collapsed on the ground, still in shock, his legs too weak to stand.
The cowardice from before completely dispersed, as grudge-filled eyes stared in the direction James Grant left, teeth nearly snapped.
Just wait, he’ll make James Grant and Evelyn Clayton pay the price!
In the hospital, Yara Reagan kept her phone away, not allowing her to watch TV or contact the outside world.
But there were still plenty of reporters sneaking into the hospital causing trouble, all dealt with by Yara Reagan with security.
Evelyn Clayton half-rested against the headboard.
The ward door was suddenly pushed open from the outside, Yara Reagan instinctively went to close it.
When she saw who entered, her hands stopped.
Evelyn Clayton lifted her gaze, watching James Grant walk into the ward.
His face remained grim, deep and dark as always.
"Uh, I’ll check when the doctor will change the medication."
Yara Reagan wisely wanted to find an excuse to leave.
"Just changed, no need to go." Evelyn Clayton spoke to stop her.
Yara Reagan smackled her lips but still retreated to the side of the ward.
The oppressive anger, with the already chilly ward, grew even colder with his arrival.
Evelyn Clayton couldn’t help but shiver slightly, pursed her lips, and looked away.
Her reaction was noted by James Grant, his brows furrowed tighter, stepping forward.
Evelyn Clayton’s face remained pale and sickly, she avoided James Grant’s reaching hand, shaking her head: "No."
Noticing her avoidance, James Grant’s dark eyes grew deeper, palm clenched as his voice lowered: "Car accident, photos, it’s Matthew Sullivan’s doing."