Chapter 860: Chapter 860 International Express Delivery_1
Purple Summers subconsciously raised her hand, gently stroking her cheek. Ever since she received the news of Roy Howard’s death, she had been living in a daze for over a month. The only clear days were those spent investigating the case with Autumn Carter.
She had no appetite most days and resorted to desperately nourishing herself with ginseng and bird’s nest, knowing she couldn’t break down. Even if it led to nosebleeds, she had to stay alive and wait for his return.
“Looking good in clothes when you’re a bit thinner, right?” Purple Summers linked arms with Atra Blanc, chuckling, “And knowing I’ll definitely gain weight after eating Mom’s cooking, I intentionally lost a few pounds in advance to make space.”
Atra Blanc was both heartbroken and helpless, “You child!”
Purple Summers asked with a smile, “Did you make it? The braised pig trotters with soybeans, I really want some!”
“Done!” Atra Blanc was amused by her daughter’s craving, “There’s also pan-fried Argentine red shrimp and sweet and sour lotus root stuffed with rice.”
“Mom, you’re the best!” Purple Summers cooed.
Just before entering the house, remembering the entourage behind her, Purple Summers told Atra Blanc, “Mom, the Simonson Family gave me some people. I need to make some arrangements, please go inside first.”
Atra Blanc glanced at the formidable entourage behind Purple Summers, nodded her head, and obediently entered the house.
Purple Summers’ steward was named Cedric Spencer, a thirty-something man of medium height, with a serious face that hardly smiled but looked extremely steady and reliable.
Purple Summers handed him a card, instructing, “Eight people are enough for handling the villa. Take the others to pier number 10 at Clearwater. I have a yacht there, you can settle in for now. The yacht is vacant and can accommodate forty or fifty people with no problem. Hire some crew and drivers as soon as you can, I need to go downstream of Clearwater the day after tomorrow at the latest. Use the money in this card for your expenses and buy a few more cars for transportation.”
Manager Charles replied, “Miss, Mr. President already provided us with funds before our arrival.”
Maintaining so many people required substantial expenses; Christopher Simonson wouldn’t just drop people off on Purple Summers and not care.
Purple Summers was silent for a moment, then still gave the card to Cedric Spencer, saying softly, “Then use this money to buy some clothes, it’s a token of my regard. Clearwater is more humid than Kingsley, remember to buy some common medicines.”
“Thank you, Miss,” the steward went immediately to arrange things.
Purple Summers thought the steward Christopher Simonson had chosen for her was very good—laconic and stable.
The steward left eight people behind, six guarding the perimeter of the bungalow and two inside the house, taking the rest with him.
From time to time, Atra Blanc looked back. Seeing the guns holstered on those people’s waists made her fearfully ask Purple Summers, “Is it very risky being the president’s daughter?”
Purple Summers comforted Atra Blanc with a smile, “Mom, this is called grandeur, grandeur!”
In fact, she wasn’t guarding against parties hostile to the president. The person she was defending against was Damian Howard.
It had been over a month since the incident. Had Damian Howard accepted Roy Howard’s death? Was he still searching for Roy’s body? Did he have any regrets about what he had done?
Purple Summers ate her meal, her mind in turmoil.
“Nearly forgot, drink this,” Atra Blanc suddenly recalled, walking to the side and taking out a can of juice from a box, setting it on the table, “Your brother sent it from abroad, it’s a specialty from Brazil, a kind of wild berry drink called guarana.”
The chopsticks in Purple Summers’ hand fell to the floor.
Seeing her startled, Atra Blanc said, “You were shocked too, weren’t you? When he comes back, I must thoroughly lecture him! Running off abroad without a word, not even a phone call, isn’t that purposely making people worry? He’s grown so big, yet still acts so irresponsibly… sigh…”
Purple Summers bent down silently, picking up the chopsticks.
Atra Blanc took the chopsticks from her hand and turned towards the kitchen, “I’ll get you another pair.”
Quietly, Purple Summers got up and walked to the box; it still had half a torn international parcel sticker on it. The sender was Alexander Summers.
…Alexander Summers, abroad?