Chapter 211 Might as Well Kill You
Richard lowered his head and kissed her lips.
Nina stiffened for a moment, but when she remembered she needed something from Richard, she willingly raised her arms, embraced him, and reciprocated his kiss.
They kissed all the way from the doorway to the bed.
Nina was pressed into the soft covers and suddenly felt a tightness in her chest. She opened her eyes abruptly. "Mr. Mille!"
Richard's hand stopped, his dark eyes deeply gazing at Nina.
"Did you find anything?" Nina asked.
"I did." Richard said.
Nina's heart leaped with joy, her eyes brightening."Is there really a problem?"
"There is." Richard replied.
"That's great! I knew it." Nina was so excited that she grabbed Richard's sleeve. "Where is Bella? Are she and the child okay?"
Richard said, "I haven't found that much yet. The only thing I can confirm is that the car accident was deliberate, which leaves many questions unanswered."
"What about Bella?"
Richard looked at her. "Do you think I'm so powerful that I can find out so quickly?"
Nina was taken aback. She thought about how Zaire had been investigating for so long without finding anything, but Richard had already found clues as soon as he got involved. "I'm sorry. I'm just anxious."
Richard smirked. "You worry about the wrong things!" His hand moved.
Nina immediately felt a current run through her body. Through her clothes, she pressed his hand, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Mr. Mille, you haven't found Bella for me yet. This shouldn't be happening."
Richard was indifferent. Even though Nina was pressing his hand, his fingers could still move.
He pinched gently, and Nina couldn't help but tremble and get a bit angry. "Mr. Mille!"
Richard stopped, withdrew his hand, and kissed her lightly. "You're already divorced, why are you still so sensitive?"
Nina was speechless. He was acting as if he was losing out by touching her.
Nina turned her head away, feeling slightly uncomfortable because of Richard's words."I'm not only divorced, but I've also had a miscarriage. I'm worthless now. If you despise me, you don't have to force yourself to do anything!"
Richard was silent. He turned Nina's face toward him, his deep gaze sweeping over her face inch by inch. This tough man was now full of tenderness, and even his voice softened unconsciously. "Sorry, I don't know what to say, and I made you unhappy."
Nina lowered her eyes and didn't look at him. "You're telling the truth. Mr. Mille, I know I have nothing. I'm grateful that you're willing to help me. If you have any requests, I'll do my best to fulfill them. There's no need to force yourself to do anything with me."
"I'm not forcing myself to do anything." Richard's thumb caressed her face.
His fingers were rough, and had thick and hard calluses. Although Nina's skin wasn't particularly delicate, it was much better compared to Richard. Therefore, when his thumb brushed, Nina felt a slight pain.
She grabbed Richard's hand and noticed many small scars on the back of his hand and fingers.
"What are these?" Nina was shocked.
The scars looked old and varied in size, like a pile of centipedes covering Richard's entire hand.
Nina didn't dare count how many there were!
A trace of inferiority flashed in Richard's eyes. He clenched his hand into a fist. "Just some old scars."
Nina opened her mouth but didn't ask any more questions.
She knew about Richard's connection with the top casino and that he wasn't a good person. She privately wanted to stay away from such a dangerous figure.
Staying away meant not asking about him, not talking to him, and not understanding him.
She had always done this with Richard.
But right now, Nina couldn't help but want to ask about the origin of those scars.
In the blink of an eye, two weeks passed.
While Richard and Zaire were investigating the car accident, Charles started causing trouble for the Landon Group. In just half a month, he had taken over half of the Landon Group's assets. Rumors about the Landon Group going bankrupt were everywhere, and internal personnel were in disarray, with many resigning.
Zaire see to find Seb in the evening. He parked the car, didn't turn off the engine, and rushed into the house.
Emily was carrying a meal upstairs when she saw him and paused. "Zaire, why are you here?"
Zaire glanced at her. "I'm looking for Seb."
"Seb is upstairs..."
Before she could finish, Zaire was already striding upstairs.
Emily was stunned for a moment before quickly following.
Zaire kicked open the bedroom door, strode to the corner, and yanked up the figure sitting on the floor. "Seb, have you had enough of being down? Do you still want the Landon Group?"
Seb was limp and just let Zaire pull him up. No matter what Zaire said, Seb didn't react at all.
"Seb!"
Zaire roared in anger and punched Seb in the face.
The punch was so hard that Zaire's hand hurt. But Seb didn't make a sound.
"Living like this is no different from being dead. If that's the case, I'll just beat you to death today and give you a quick end!" Zaire got angrier as he spoke, punching Seb again and again. Seb didn't cry out in pain or even try to dodge.
Emily rushed over and pulled Zaire back. "Enough!"
She shielded Seb in her arms. "Zaire, he's already turned out like this. Just let him go!"
"Let him go?" Zaire sneered. "I'd love to let him go, but can he let himself go?"
Emily was silent.
Since Isabella "died," Seb was no longer the Seb he used to be.
Emily always thought time was a healer that could cure all wounds.
But now it seemed that time was a medicine, but not necessarily a good one. It could also be poison.
Some wounds couldn't fade with time. When a person lost the will to live, every second they lived might be torture. Seb was like that.
Emily was deeply shocked. She hadn't realized Seb loved Isabella so deeply.
Suddenly, Zaire grabbed Seb's collar again, pulling him up and dragging him out.
Emily snapped back to reality and chased after them. "Zaire, where are you taking him?"
Zaire said nothing and quickly dragged Seb downstairs. In a few steps, they were outside. He opened the car door, shoved Seb into the passenger seat, buckled the seatbelt, then got in himself and sped off.
When Emily ran out, she could only see the taillights disappearing at the end of the road.
The car sped onto the highway, the accelerator pressed to the floor, the scenery outside blurring to the extreme.
Zaire gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched.
In contrast, Seb sat quietly in the passenger seat, his face showing no panic, only relief.
Zaire glanced at him, gritted his teeth, and drove onto the ramp. He slammed on the brakes, causing the tires to smoke.
