Chapter 368 In the Bathroom
At the Domestic Terminal of Upper West Side International Airport, Luann was checking in her luggage with a small suitcase in tow.
With an hour left before boarding, she breezed through security and waited at the gate.
Nearby, in a café, a tall guy was paying for coffee at the counter.
"Sir, I'll bring it to you shortly. Please have a seat," the barista said.
Williams nodded and found a seat by the window, keeping an eye on Luann.
The coffee was served quickly. He took a distracted sip, not realizing something was off until it was too late.
Williams scanned the café but saw nothing suspicious. Yet, he knew the coffee had been tampered with. It wasn't poison or a sedative, or he would've noticed right away.
Fifteen minutes later, his stomach started rumbling. He tried to stay composed, but the discomfort was too much. He rushed to the restroom.
Once there, he couldn't stop the diarrhea. His face was grim as he heard footsteps outside.
After countless flushes, Williams pushed open the door, his expression cold.
A tall man leaned against the sink, his handsome face with a hint of amusement. There were only the two of them in the restroom, and the door was tightly closed.
"Looks like it worked well," Myron said, his voice hoarse and deep.
Williams forced a grim smile. "Is this your style? Low and dirty?"
Myron tilted his head, his bangs partially covering his eyes, which were intimidating.
He sneered. "You use the methods that fit the person. Isn't your stalking low and dirty too?"
Williams spoke slowly, "Luann is my sister, and also..."
Myron cut him off coldly, "Mr. Miller, do you still remember she's your sister? Is that how a brother should feel?"
"But I don't see Luann as my sister."
"But Luann sees you as her brother."
They stared each other down, tension thick in the air, ready to fight.
"You know Luann's past and the Miller Family's power. Do you think Jones would accept your marriage to Luann? Letting her go is best for both of you."
Williams tried to use the Miller Family to pressure him.
A faint smile graced Myron's face. Just standing there, he was a sight to behold. "Are you sure staying with the Miller Family is good for her?"
Each word hit a nerve.
"You know better than anyone how much Luann has learned in the Miller Family," Myron said coldly. "And you know if she's truly happy. Keeping her in that big cage, is that what she wants or what you want? You can't bear to let go of your 'perfect child,' can you?"
Williams' face twisted, and he suddenly shouted, "We're not as despicable as you say! Everyone in the Miller Family wants Luann to be happy!"
Myron sneered. "Saying that just hides your true feelings for her."
Williams' sharpness faded. "She was born and raised in the Miller Family. She should stay there for life. Why should I let you have her so easily? What makes you qualified, Myron?"
Myron glanced at him. "If you're sick, see a doctor. Delaying treatment is bad for your brain."
Williams' words had clearly displeased Myron. He treated Luann like an object, talking about having or not having her. Luann was a person with her own choices.
"The effect probably hasn't worn off yet. Stay a bit longer," Myron said, turning to leave.
Williams' stubborn voice came from behind. "If you don't let go, I'll cut off your hand."
Myron paused, turning back with a half-smile, his eyes filled with murderous intent. In the next second, he moved swiftly.
Williams frowned and dodged quickly.
In the spacious restroom, occasional clanging sounds echoed.
The two fought for dozens of rounds.
After a moment of carelessness, Williams was kicked in the stomach, worsening his already bad condition.
Myron stood over him, exuding a kingly aura that overwhelmed Williams.
Myron's tone was decisive and chilling. "Let's see who cuts off whose hand first."
He then stepped on Williams' hand without expression.
Williams groaned. Myron's low laugh was mocking. "The Miller Family is just like this."
In the next second, several cold lights flashed. Some well-aimed concealed weapons were nailed to the partition door. But Myron seemed unscathed. Williams' heart sank.
Although Myron won this time somewhat opportunistically, it was clear that if both were in top condition, he might not be able to beat Myron. Their last encounter had shown Myron's sharpness was even greater than his.
Myron suddenly called out.
Williams looked over and saw a trace of blood blooming on Myron's white shirt.
Williams was slightly surprised. 'What? Judging by his dodging, Myron shouldn't have been injured!'
At that moment, the door creaked open.
