Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

The doorbell was still ringing nonstop. She felt a little scared. Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan woke up too.

The three of them looked at each other in bewilderment. Just as they were about to call for help, the door clicked. Someone had picked the lock from the outside.

That single click grated on their nerves.

Suddenly, a dozen or so burly, menacing men burst in from outside.

Quinn Sullivan knew this was bad and shouted for her guards, but the men just sneered. "Don’t bother shouting. We’ve already taken care of the people sent to protect you."

"Who are you people! What do you want!" Mr. Sullivan reprimanded them sternly.

"Who we are isn’t important. What’s important is why we’re here."

Quinn Sullivan clenched her fists. She knew they were here for her.

"Don’t hurt my parents! If you want something, come after me!"

"We were always coming for you..." one of the men said with a sinister grin.

Mrs. Sullivan threw herself in front of Quinn. "My daughter is pregnant! Please, don’t hurt her. You have wives and children too..."

"It’s because we have wives and children that we have to do this. Otherwise, our own families won’t be safe. What are you all standing around for? Get her into the room."

Two men violently dragged Mrs. Sullivan aside while two others subdued Mr. Sullivan. The rest of them ganged up and forced Quinn Sullivan into her room, slamming the door shut.

"Help!" Mrs. Sullivan started screaming. "Somebody, help!"

One of the brutish men slapped her across the face. "Shut up!"

Mrs. Sullivan kept screaming. Finally, having lost their patience, one of the men stabbed her in the abdomen. Her body collapsed.

Mr. Sullivan’s eyes widened as he screamed, "Quinn’s mother!"

Mrs. Sullivan clutched her stomach, lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Her eyes grew hazy, but she kept calling out, her voice faint.

She crawled to the door and knocked. "Quinn!"

Just as she called out, a bloodcurdling scream erupted from inside the room.

The sound sent a tremor through both Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan.

Mr. Sullivan struggled with all his might, only to be savagely beaten. Mrs. Sullivan’s hands were covered in fresh blood, and when she slapped them against the door, she left a five-fingered handprint.

Again and again she struck the door. This sudden catastrophe had just destroyed their small family.

Mr. Sullivan got on his knees and begged, even kowtowing, but he couldn’t elicit a shred of sympathy from the two men outside.

It lasted for a full forty minutes.

The door opened and the men walked out, each one with a long, grim face.

They knew their own doomsday was fast approaching.

"Did you get the pictures?"

One man handed over a camera.

The man looked at them and uttered two words. "Very good."

"Let’s go!"

"Boss, aren’t we going to silence these two?"

The man nodded. "Stab them each a few more times."

With that, he turned and left.

Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan were each stabbed seven or eight times, dying on the spot.

When Quinn Sullivan awoke from her unconscious state, she staggered out of bed and found some clothes. She had only taken two steps when her gaze fell upon her mother, who was lying face down on the floor by the door.

A desperate, hoarse sob escaped her lips. "Mom!!!"

She ran to the doorway. As she knelt, her eyes landed on her father’s body not far away.

"Dad!!!"

Quinn Sullivan collapsed to the floor, paralyzed with grief. Blood was running down her legs to her ankles.

It was as if all the strength had been instantly drained from her body.

She was like a soulless corpse.

She lifted her mother’s head and held it tightly in her arms, tears streaming down her face. "I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have died. You wouldn’t have! This is all my fault!"

When Lillian Bancroft arrived with his men, he knew something terrible had happened.

He stood in the doorway, watching Quinn Sullivan sit there, motionless, clutching her mother. A flicker of emotion crossed his eyes. He called out, "Quinn?"

Her vacant expression made his heart clench.

"Quinn..." He tried to approach, but she screamed like a madwoman, "Don’t you come near me!!!"

"I won’t, I won’t. Just get up. We need to go to the hospital..."

"I’m not going!!"

She shook her head frantically, like a rattle drum. "Lillian Bancroft, give me back my parents! Look at them! They’re dead! They died because of me! And who is it all because of? You! They killed my parents because of you! What did my parents do wrong? What did they ever do to deserve this? If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t be dead..." Her voice was choked with sobs, and tears blurred her vision. "Lillian Bancroft, all I did was steal your wallet once... And in return, you gave me a lifetime of ruin, along with the lives of my parents..."

"Just get up first. We can talk this through properly. I will avenge your parents. Trust me."

"Trust you..." She laughed weakly. "Do you think I don’t know? You may hold the title of Supreme Leader, but you don’t have as much real power as the Matriarch and your younger brother..."

She pointed to her own belly. "I’ve lost so much blood. The baby is gone. I’ve lost my innocence. I’ve disgraced the title of First Lady of Harrowin. My parents are dead because of me. What right do I have to keep living? If you feel even an ounce of guilt, I hope... I hope one day you can get revenge for us..."

She yanked the knife out of her mother’s abdomen.

"Don’t!" Lillian Bancroft took a step forward, but it was too late. Quinn Sullivan viciously plunged the knife into her own swollen belly.

Her face contorted in agony. Lillian Bancroft swept her into his arms. "I’m taking you to the hospital now! Hold on."

A tearful smile touched her lips, but she said nothing more.

By the time they reached the hospital entrance, Quinn Sullivan had already passed out.

Throughout the entire emergency surgery, Lillian Bancroft was tormented. He had already issued an order to hunt down the culprits.

Fortunately, she was saved. The child, however, had died in her womb; the stillborn fetus was removed.

Quinn Sullivan was placed in a hospital room, guarded by numerous soldiers.

Lillian Bancroft gazed at her deathly pale face, his own heart twisting in pain.

"Your Excellency, we’ve caught all of them. We’re awaiting your orders. Also... something has started circulating online..."

"What’s circulating?"

"The First Lady’s... photos. They’re very indecent. They also claim she was... assaulted. Take a look..."

He shot to his feet. "Bastards. Go deal with it now! And keep a close watch on her. You, come back with me!"

The group quickly returned to the Imperial Palace.

The captured men had all been hung up.

In full public view.

Under the night sky, which was unnaturally dark and gloomy, Lillian Bancroft ordered all media outlets to work through the night and delete every copy of the photos from the internet. He also issued a personal decree: anyone who dared to discuss the matter would be arrested and sentenced.

Soon, the internet fell silent. Even though everyone knew in their hearts that something had happened to the First Lady.

But who would dare to defy the order and discuss it?

The situation online was handled, but as for the mastermind behind it all, Lillian Bancroft knew better than anyone who was responsible.

He also knew that for the mastermind to have these men carry out the act, it meant he held their weaknesses in his hands.

’So, even if I kill them right now, they won’t accuse anyone or say a single extra word.’

’These are ordinary men with no official rank. It’s easy to guess what their so-called weaknesses are—their families.’

When he stood before the men who had been strung up and beaten, they remained completely silent, ready to accept death or torture.

He spoke. "I know you’re all eager to die, but I have no intention of letting you have your way so quickly." Lillian Bancroft turned to the soldiers behind him. "Give the order: capture Jonathan Bancroft alive. Find the families of these men. I want them brought to me—alive or dead."

"Sir!" the soldiers roared in unison.

He sat there, his emotions in turmoil as he thought about the night’s events.

’For this, I will show the true mastermind no mercy!’

Half an hour later, Jonathan Bancroft was brought in.

He was fearless, showing no regard for Lillian Bancroft whatsoever.

"You sent for me. What is it?"

"Do you know these men?"

Jonathan Bancroft was calm. "I do not."

"But they all say they know you." The moment Lillian Bancroft spoke, the previously silent thugs grew agitated.

"We never said we knew you!"

"That’s right, we didn’t!"

"He’s making it all up!"

"..."

The men all started talking at once.

Jonathan Bancroft gave a placid smile. "See? They all say they don’t know me."

"How can that be? I could have sworn I just heard them say you ordered this whole thing. They even said you threatened their families. I’m quite sure I didn’t mishear."

Jonathan Bancroft’s expression changed, though it was hard to see clearly in the dark. "Is that so?"

The men hanging there panicked. "We didn’t say that! We really didn’t! You’re threatening us with our families, so how could we talk? If we did, our families would be in danger..."

Lillian Bancroft clapped his hands. "I’ve recorded every word. That’s all the evidence I need..."

"A cornered animal will bite back before it dies. How can you trust their words?" Jonathan Bancroft stood up. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving."

"Guards! Take him to the dungeons to await judgment."

The color drained from Jonathan Bancroft’s face. He glared at Lillian Bancroft, who remained seated. "You dare touch me?!"

"And why wouldn’t I dare?"

"You’d better be prepared. If you touch me, people will come to attack the Imperial Palace tomorrow!"

"I am prepared. And you should prepare yourself. Take him away!"

The order was absolute. Jonathan Bancroft was forcibly dragged away.

"I knew you wouldn’t talk. But if he can use your weaknesses against you, so can I. Just wait for news of your families. Once they’re found, I’ll bring them to you myself."

The men hanging there felt their hearts pound. They exchanged glances, and a silent agreement passed between them: they would wait and see. They would decide what to do after their families were brought here.

Nicholas Ainsworth had been at the upscale residential complex since early morning, but unfortunately, even after waiting until nightfall, he still hadn’t been able to see Nora Ainsworth or Quentin Grant.

Standing impatiently at the main gate with Sharon Ainsworth, Nicholas Ainsworth had no choice but to call the media to report on the situation. To his complete surprise, the reporters he called arrived and left just a few moments later.

Nicholas Ainsworth had no other option but to call the police.

After the police understood the situation, they were powerless to help, deterred by the might of the Grant Family.

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