His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

172 Hello, My Daughter

"I'd advise you not to take out your pistol here," said Ian, glancing at Frade's hand behind his waist, "Although Mr Blanton told me to try to get you out peacefully, he did not forbid me to use force against you."

"You can try." Before Frade could finish his sentence, he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Ian's head.

"Once again, let us go!"

Even though Frade's pistol was aimed at Ian's head, he didn't change his expression. The next moment, a red light came from nearby. A small red dot was pointed right at Frade's heart.

Ian just waved his hand, and the red light shot straight at me. The red dot that had been on Frade shifted to me.

"Mr Logan, I'd drop that pistol if I were you," Ian said, smiling at Frade.

Frade looked at me, then he threw the pistol to the ground. After Ian raised his right hand and gestured, a black SUV drove right up to us.

"Please get in, Miss," Ian said as he opened the door.

I was in the back seat of the car, and just as Frade was about to catch up, Ian stopped him with his hand.

"Just Eva."

"Get out of the way if you want to keep this hand," Frade said firmly. "I won't let you take her alone."

"Frade, I'll be fine," I said.

"No. I won't let you go alone this time," Frade said firmly. "If you want to take Eva alone, then step over my dead body."

"Mr Logan, I don't want to use force on you."

"Did I tell you I had another pistol?" Frade snapped another pistol at Ian's heart. "I don't give a f.uck about Mickle!"

Ian stares at the pistol in Frade's hand. Two seconds later, he says, "I need to call my boss."

Ian made a quick phone call in front of us, and after hanging up, he said in a compromised tone, "Mr Blanton has agreed to let you come with us."

Frade got into the car and sat next to me, his arms wrapped around my body. The moment the car started, my heart tightened and fell like a wave. The driver drove the car in silence and took us through the city to a high-end residential area in the suburbs.

Soon the car stopped outside a manor house, and he stuck his head out the window and faced the gate system. A green light swept across his face. The gate opened and the car moved on.

I noticed three cars following our car. There is no doubt that Ian is in one of the cars. Who are the other two cars?

The estate was larger than any I'd ever seen, and after approximately 15 minutes on the wide estate road, the car came to a stop in front of a large building. Ian had already approached us from behind the car after the driver had opened the door for us.

Before entering the main entrance, two uniformed personnel arrived to check Frade with a professional security scanner. After the scanner shrieked loudly at his waist, he was forced to hand over his weapon to the security personnel.

"She doesn't need to be checked," Frade said when the security officer tried to check me. "She's pregnant and can't be checked."

The security guard takes one look at Ian and. With permission, he puts the scanner behind him.

"Come in with me," Ian said to us.

We followed Ian into the house in front of us, and outside the door, a maid was in charge of showing us the way. The maid silently led us to the house's private elevator. She spoke into the intercom installed on the elevator.

"Mr Brandon, your guests have arrived."

After a few seconds, a loud voice came over the intercom.

"Let them in."

That was Mickle's voice. It was the first time I'd heard his voice up close. My heart tensed up. Why did he want to see me?

We got into the elevator and arrived at the top of the house. When the doors open, we see a luxurious and spacious living room. But there was no one there.

"Miss, Mr Mickle would like to speak to you alone," said Ian, "So Mr Logan will have to wait in the living room for a while."

"No."

"Frade," I interrupted. "I'll be fine, believe me."

"Eva!" Frade grabbed my hand.

"This time, please let me face it alone," I said as I let go of his hand.

Ian took me to the other room. He pushed the door open with his hand and whispered to me.

"He's in there. Go in!"

I walked into the room and saw a tall figure with his back to me. The door behind me was gently closed. The man had no intention of turning back.

I suddenly lost the courage to go forward, and we just kept a silent distance. After a while, I thought I heard a little sigh. Then the man turned his head and I saw his face.

"Hey! I'm Mickle Brandon," he said quietly.

"I'm Eva!" I said simply.

"Sit down, please." He motioned with his eyes for me to sit down on the sofa.

"Why did you bring me here?" I didn't move my feet.

"Why don't you sit down and talk?" he said, and sat down on the other side of the sofa.

"I don't think our conversation will last long," I refused his offer. "Let's skip the pleasantries and get to the point!"

Mickle squinted at me. "You're not like your sister. She's a lot nicer than you are."

"You've met Mia?" I was surprised.

"I just finished talking to her before you came," Mickle said, pulling a thin cigar from a silver cigar case on the table next to the couch.

"You don't mind, do you?" He asked, holding the cigar in his hand.

"I don't mind," I said, "But my baby does."

"Are you pregnant?" Mickle's eyes darted across my belly. "Congratulations!"

"So you're just going to stand there?" He put the thin cigar back in its box.

"Come and sit down."

I walked slowly to him and sat on the other side of the sofa. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something. But he didn't say anything.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked.

"Because I want to see you," he said.

"But I don't want to see you," I said coldly. "If you hadn't sent someone after Daley, and if you hadn't let the police arrest me, I don't think I would have wanted to see you for the rest of my life."

"Why?"

"Because I hate you." I glared at him. "You killed my mother."

"Do you want to kill me?"

"Yes."

Mickle pointed to a shotgun hanging on the wall and said, "If you want to kill me, go ahead."

I was stunned. What was he saying?

"You won't kill me, just like I wouldn't kill you," he said calmly. "Not yet."

Maybe I should just shoot him with the shotgun.