A Bumpy Road to Power

Could Terrence Hall have committed suicide?

Of course not.

You're better off believing a sow can climb a tree than believing Terrence Hall would kill himself.

Since it wasn't suicide, then without a doubt it was homicide.

But who exactly did it?

The people in Jamal Palmer's camp are suspects.

First of all, the moment Terrence Hall died, all the responsibility for the old neighborhood renovation project could be dumped onto him.

All the shady stuff in there could then sink to the bottom of the sea.

Second, it could also have been Clark Fletcher.

If he'd gotten word through some channel that his brother‑in‑law Terrence Hall was about to name him.

Then he might very well have taken a desperate gamble.

After all, Clark Fletcher had clawed his way up with great difficulty; if he went down over the fake construction on this project, that would be way too not worth it.

"Do you think it was Jamal Palmer or Clark Fletcher who did it?"

On the phone, Gwendolyn Lewis asked.

Dirk Carter said firmly, "No."

Gwendolyn exclaimed, "Not them? They're the most suspicious ones—if it wasn't them, who else could it be?"

"The person who stands to gain the most from all this."

"The one who gains the most—who is it?"

Gwendolyn asked.

Dirk let out a cold laugh and said, "Who else could it be? Naturally, that bastard Norman."

"Norman Ross? How is that possible? What does this have to do with him?"

"Of course it's related. At first I couldn't figure out why Norman Ross wanted to recommend me as the leading official in charge of this project. It wasn't until we discovered something fishy at the work site that it hit me…"

Norman Ross's goal was very simple.

He already knew there were major problems with this project.

And Dirk Carter's personality was that of someone who hated evil with a passion.

You could see that from the way he'd taken down Brett Summers's criminal gang back in Helios County.

As long as Dirk took over the project.

He would inevitably uncover the shady dealings in it.

And once that happened.

Dirk would inevitably clash with Jamal Palmer.

As the one who set it all in motion, Norman could make them fight while he reaped the rewards.

By then, no matter who lost or who won, it would be a good outcome for him.

Terrence Hall's death could achieve two objectives.

The first objective is, naturally, to strike at Dirk, because Dirk is currently the prime suspect. After all, Dirk met the deceased in violation of the rules—no matter how you spin it, that's a problem.

The second objective is to let the matter of the old neighborhood project ferment.

Whether Terrence Hall's death was suicide or homicide.

The old neighborhood renovation would draw enormous attention. Once that happened, Jamal Palmer would inevitably be forced into a passive position.

And there was a third objective: to make Dirk mistakenly believe this was done by Jamal Palmer's faction; that way, even if Dirk had countermeasures, he would end up falling out completely with Jamal.

But why, after ten hours had passed.

Had no one come looking to cause Dirk trouble yet?

The reason was simple.

The matter was still going through the procedures.

Today was the weekend, after all.

Even if they wanted to investigate, it wouldn't move that fast.

If they went straight for Dirk at the outset, the intent would be way too obvious.

Norman Ross wanted to "let the bullets fly a while longer."

Of course.

Dirk still had one lingering question.

Was Norman Ross really that bold?

Did he actually dare to kill someone just to achieve his political aims?

Was he not afraid of the consequences?

Right then, Gwendolyn's soft little cry came through the phone.

Dirk's heart tightened. He asked, "What happened?"

Gwendolyn said, "Listening to you talk, I wasn't careful and twisted my ankle. It hurts…"

"Where are you?"

"At the dorm."

"Wait there, I'm coming over right now."

He hung up.

Dirk immediately headed downstairs.

He grabbed a cab and quickly got to Gwendolyn's dorm building.

After he knocked and the door opened.

Dirk hurried to check Gwendolyn's ankle and found there was basically nothing wrong.

The heart he'd been holding up finally dropped.

Seeing how frantic he'd been.

Gwendolyn was deeply moved.

She nestled into his arms and murmured, "Dirk, how do you think this is all going to end?"

Dirk gave a bitter little smile.

He said, "Whoever started this, they're definitely going to try to screw me over as hard as they can this time. Even if I wasn't the one who gave Terrence Hall that razor blade, they'll still force that charge onto me."

As he said this.

Dirk's mood was a bit low.

It was a sense of defeat like he'd never felt before.

He'd been careless.

He hadn't expected these people to be this vicious, to casually take a man's life.

Thinking of that.

He looked down at Gwendolyn in his arms and said, "If nothing unexpected happens, they'll move tomorrow. When they do, just say you were only accompanying me, that you don't know anything about what happened. Got it?"

Gwendolyn didn't answer.

She only pressed herself closer against Dirk.

Suddenly.

Gwendolyn straightened up, lifted her head, looked at Dirk and asked, "Does that mean you might be going to prison tomorrow?"

"Even if I don't go to prison, I'll probably be put under double‑designation by the discipline commission."

Dirk answered.

"Aren't you scared?"

"I am. I'm not a god—of course I'm scared. But this is a road I chose myself. Whatever the outcome, I have to bear it, right?"

Hearing that.

Gwendolyn fell into thought.

After a pause, she said, "If that's the case, then let's not think about anything else. I want to sleep with you…"

After she said that.

Gwendolyn stood up.

She was wearing a set of silk pajamas.

She lifted the hem with both hands and yanked it upward; the pajama top slid off her.

She was bare underneath.

Her two snow‑white "bunnies" trembled slightly, making it impossible not to want to reach out and knead them.

Then.

She took off her pajama pants as well.

Her luscious, seductive body was laid completely bare before Dirk's eyes.

Seeing this.

Dirk gave a sheepish grin. "Afraid you won't get another taste after tomorrow?"

Gwendolyn sauntered over to him, spread her legs and sat down on his lap, saying softly, "I'm afraid you won't get any more after this."

With that.

She cupped one of her big white "bunnies" in her hand, pressed it to Dirk's mouth and pushed it in.

Dirk's hands grabbed Gwendolyn's firm, upturned hips, and his mouth worked hard on the twin peaks. In that moment, Gwendolyn's body went taut, and a soft moan slipped from her throat…

From the left to the right.

Then from the right back to the left.

After both "bunnies" had been attended to in turn.

Gwendolyn's eyes finally grew hazy and unfocused.

She got off Dirk's lap.

And had Dirk stand up as well.

She knelt down.

And helped Dirk undo his belt.

She pulled down his trousers and briefs together.

The Titan, already half aroused, sprang up before her eyes.

Like she was examining a piece of fine workmanship, Gwendolyn toyed with it a few times, then opened her mouth and took it all the way in…

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