Chapter 281: It’s Only a Few Steps, Don’t Worry, I Have It Under Control

Sean Grant had fallen silent ever since leaving the hospital room.

He stopped in front of the hospital, pulled a cigar from its case, and clamped it between his lips, turning his head slightly.

His assistant behind him immediately took out a lighter, cupping a hand over the flame to shield it from the wind as he lit it for him.

"Boss, if you really can’t get over Miss Morgan, we should just kidnap her. The boys are ready to go..." A ruthless glint flashed in the assistant’s eyes.

After all, their true intentions were already exposed. There was no need to pretend anymore.

The assistant thought his boss was being far too cautious with Luna Morgan. After discovering she had stolen the files and run away last night, they should have caught her and brought her back immediately.

Their men had chased her all the way to the entrance of The Lowell Group’s building. Just as they were about to intercept Luna Morgan, Sean Grant stopped them.

He had even sensed his boss’s strange excitement and admiration. "Not bad," he’d said. "She’s as bold as ever."

Then the accident happened. Luna Morgan had rushed forward, and his boss’s expression had instantly changed.

The car crash alerted the building’s security, and they completely lost their chance to act, forcing them to retreat.

The assistant thought it was a shame. But what could he do? His boss was too in love with Miss Morgan, willing to abandon his offensive against The Lowell Group.

Since they couldn’t get the files back, they had to retreat and regroup quickly to avoid being counter-attacked and swallowed whole by Caleb Lowell once he recovered.

The losses this time were huge, but his crew always believed a thief should never leave empty-handed. So, why not just take Luna Morgan?

"...Once we’ve forced the situation, given Miss Morgan’s personality, she’ll probably come to accept it eventually."

"Accept?" Sean Grant froze.

The assistant said, "Miss Morgan is kind and magnanimous. She’s the type to repay grievances with kindness. Give it enough time, and she’ll surely forgive us."

He didn’t see what the boss was worried about. ’If he really doesn’t want to be the bad guy, he can just pin it all on us, his subordinates. That would work. It probably wouldn’t even take three to five days for Luna Morgan to give in.’

Sean Grant lowered the cigar in his hand, its red ember glowing and fading between his fingers.

’That’s right. This is the proper way to handle Luna Morgan.’

’But why do I subconsciously feel that she would never forgive me?’

’Or is it because I love her far more than I realize? Is that why I’m so hesitant, so afraid to force her or pressure her in any way?’

A black van pulled up silently beside them. The door slid open, and two well-trained bodyguards jumped out, respectfully inviting their boss to get in.

Sean Grant stubbed out his cigar. Just as he got into the van and settled in his seat, his assistant’s phone rang.

Noticing the assistant’s grave expression, he raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

The assistant took a deep breath. "Boss, Jim Jenson was just attacked!"

Sean Grant’s expression turned cold. "Is he still alive?"

The assistant realized the misunderstanding and hurried to explain, "Oh, no, it’s not that bad. He’s not dead, and he didn’t lose any limbs. Someone just threw a sack over his head and gave him a beating."

He passed a phone to Sean Grant, showing him a video that had just been sent over.

Jim Jenson was bruised and swollen, hopping mad and cursing a blue streak. Judging by how animated he was, he was clearly in pain, but he was also clearly not seriously injured.

The assistant was thoroughly confused. "Who on earth would do this, and why?"

At first, he’d thought it was their rivals. But if that were the case, they wouldn’t have let him go so easily. They would have used him to negotiate.

That meant it wasn’t about money.

But if it was an enemy seeking revenge, they would have beaten him half to death. After all, if they had the skills to disable the surveillance cameras, why hold back?

A thoughtful look crossed Sean Grant’s face. "I remember a couple of Caleb Lowell’s people—Chloe Dave and Vincent Holt, I think—were also attacked."

Hearing this, the assistant quickly made a few calls.

A moment later, he had his answer. "Boss, you were right. Those two were attacked last night in separate locations, but the method was identical. Sacks over their heads, hacked surveillance. They have no idea who the attacker was."

"Without a doubt, it’s the work of the same group!"

A glint appeared in Sean Grant’s eyes. "Perhaps not a group. Perhaps it was just one person."

He sent a text to Jim Jenson, who replied quickly, confirming he had only heard one person’s footsteps.

’For an operation like this, the fewer people, the better,’ Sean thought. ’More people means more variables, more ways to get caught. It explains why there aren’t any clues.’

Sean Grant scrolled through his phone, a flicker of interest in his eyes.

In a group chat dedicated to bad-mouthing Jane Lancaster, he saw a post from Vincent Holt accusing her of being the attacker.

Most people in the group dismissed it, thinking Vincent Holt had lost his mind. How could someone as frail as Jane Lancaster pull that off? ’She’s hypocritical and malicious, sure, but she’s still a woman. She wouldn’t have the nerve.’

But he wondered, ’Would Jane Lancaster really not dare? I doubt it.’

’That woman has always been bold and unpredictable. And she has a score to settle with every single person who was attacked...’

"Change of plans. Head to the club. I’m meeting Jim Jenson." He had been planning on going home, but now his interest was piqued.

After all, Jim Jenson was one of his guys. He wasn’t going to let someone get away with beating him up for no reason.

He had wanted to keep a low profile before, but that was no longer necessary.

As the van was nearing the club, the assistant’s phone started ringing off the hook.

"What? Someone’s causing trouble at the bar?"

"What? The bar’s surveillance system is down?"

"What?! Someone reported our bar for illegal activities?!"

...

Each exclamation was more frantic than the last, painting a clear picture of the escalating crisis.

Sean Grant ran several bars in Stratton, and it was clear this wasn’t an issue at just one of them.

"Since it’s an emergency, take the bodyguards and go handle it," Sean Grant said, his expression calm.

A man who could run several bars like his obviously had connections. Normally, aside from a few clueless troublemakers, no one dared to cause a scene on his turf.

For so many incidents to happen so quickly, it had to be Caleb Lowell’s doing.

’I didn’t expect him to react so fast. But this is just a minor disturbance. Small potatoes.’

The assistant said, "Right away, Boss. I’m on it."

Sean Grant added, "Have the driver take you after you drop me at the club. It’ll be faster."

Those bars brought in millions a night. He was a businessman, and no matter how lovesick he was, he wasn’t about to abandon that kind of profit.

Especially not at the bar that had been reported. A group of rich kids were there tonight, popping bottles. They were clueless, loaded, and spending big. The manager had even said the atmosphere was electric and that he expected tonight’s revenue to double.

It would be a real shame to let someone ruin a vibe like that.

The van circled the complex. It was supposed to turn onto the service road leading to the parking lot, but the road was blocked by a barricade.

The driver had no choice but to get back on the main road, but continuing from there would mean taking a long detour.

Sean Grant glanced at a side street. After a moment of thought, he said, "Just drop me here."

"But, sir, what if it’s not safe?" the assistant asked.

"It’s just a short walk. Don’t worry, I can handle myself." Sean Grant brushed off the concern.

The assistant considered this and wondered if he was overthinking it.

Sean Grant wasn’t a lightweight like Jim Jenson. His fighting skills were on par with a professional bodyguard’s. Anyone looking for trouble with him would just be asking for a death wish.