Chapter 896 Too Uncomfortable

"After leaving the clinic, Mrs. Grant went to the hospital to visit Preston Vance," the bodyguard reported over the phone. "She left in a car, but it stopped halfway. She then transferred to another vehicle and headed to a tavern. She is still there right now."

Walker Grant listened to the report, his face darkening slightly. "Is she alone?" he asked.

"Yes," the bodyguard replied.

Walker hung up the phone. His arm dropped naturally to his side, radiating a cold, imposing aura. He turned and walked toward the sofa but accidentally bumped into a cabinet. His footsteps halted. He stood frozen in place, not moving a muscle for a long time.

The weather outside had turned gloomy, casting a pale, grayish pallor over the study. The dim lighting created an oppressive and stagnant atmosphere.

Walker lowered his head slightly. His vision went completely black as a sudden, sharp pain pierced his eyes. The agonizing pain was excruciating. He reached up to press his temples, but the wave of agony was so intense that his head began to spin. Unable to keep his balance, he stumbled and collapsed to the floor.

A suppressed, pained groan escaped his throat. He pressed his fingers fiercely into his temples, desperately trying to alleviate the surging agony.

He thought, "Strange. I’m supposedly cured, so why does it still hurt this much? What exactly went wrong?"

At the tavern.

Chloe Reed had finished a bottle of wine. The alcohol content was low—not enough to get her drunk—but she just felt too miserable. She wanted to numb herself with the alcohol to stop herself from overthinking.

The glass in her hand was beautiful. She held it and gently swirled the remaining liquid, staring unfocused at the cascading wine. Soft, slow music played throughout the tavern. It was still early, making her the only customer in the establishment.

"Miss, would you like another glass?" the bartender behind the counter asked, stepping forward when he noticed her leaning against the bar and staring blankly at her drink.

Chloe shook her head. "No more. Drink too much, and it’s easy to black out."

The bartender offered a polite smile. "The drink you ordered has a very low alcohol content. It’s highly unlikely to cause a blackout."

Chloe offered a faint, wry smile. "No matter how low the alcohol content is, it’s still alcohol." With that, she downed the rest of the drink in one gulp and dialed Daniel Hayes’s number.

"Chloe, what’s wrong?" Daniel answered quickly, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Come inside for a moment," Chloe said. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure thing," Daniel replied.

A moment later, the tavern door opened, and Daniel’s burly figure walked in. Seeing Chloe’s cheeks flushed from the alcohol, he couldn’t help but feel concerned. "Chloe, you don’t have a high tolerance. You should really drink less."

Chloe looked at him. "Do you know how many people Walker has secretly assigned to watch me?"

Hearing this, Daniel paused slightly. "Those are people sent to protect you. You—"

"Just tell me the number," Chloe interrupted, resting her head on her hand. She lowered her eyes slightly, her expression indifferent.

Daniel sensed that something was different about Chloe today, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He hesitated for a moment before answering. "They rotate in three shifts. At any given time, there are eight people stationed in various corners nearby."

"Heh." Chloe let out a soft scoff at his words.

Daniel looked at her, growing even more puzzled. "Chloe, what are you trying to do?"

Chloe raised her eyes to meet his gaze. "Daniel, do you still follow his orders?"

Daniel shook his head. "No. My transaction with him is over. Right now, I am only your personal bodyguard."

"That’s good," Chloe smiled faintly before adding. "Find everyone who’s secretly protecting me. I want to have a chat with them."