I Faked My Death—Now I Have to Tame the Crazy Men I Left Behind-Chapter 101 - 99: Hack the Other Guy to Death

Yates Donovan was stunned at first. He gave Hayes Hughes a long, hard look to make sure the man wasn’t joking, then raised an eyebrow and asked with a smirk, "And why should I leave?"

He stood by Mia Grant’s bed, leaning against the cabinet with his arms crossed, not moving an inch.

’For Mia’s sake, I haven’t even kicked him out yet.’

’They ignored me just now, and I didn’t get angry, did I?’

’If I fussed over every little thing, I’d have been driven mad by now.’

’Why make things difficult for myself?’

’Stay if you can handle it. That’s the unspoken rule.’

’Can’t accept it? Then get the hell out.’

’Anyway, I don’t care. As long as I’m alive, what do these other guys even matter?’

With that thought, Yates Donovan straightened up slightly. He had to show this home-wrecker, who was clearly pushing his luck, the true bearing of an empress.

Mia Grant’s eyes were drawn to him. She suddenly felt that as he stood there, chin held high, a confident arrogance hidden in his smile, it gave off a strong "As long as the queen lives, you are all mere consorts" vibe.

Hayes Hughes tightened his grip on the report in his hand, but his expression remained as gentle as ever.

"I’d like to speak with Mia alone about some of her recent health issues."

"It involves some private matters, so if it’s convenient, I’d ask you to step out."

"..."

Yates Donovan really wanted to throw a "It’s not convenient" back at him.

He knew the man was likely using his professional position for personal reasons, yet he had no way to refute it.

Yesterday, he had secretly sought out Mia Grant’s attending physician.

Coughing up blood was no small matter.

Even though his subordinate had told him she was out of mortal danger and generally fine, he still couldn’t rest easy.

He hadn’t even had much of an appetite while eating dinner with the old man last night.

Only one thought remained in his mind—

’There’s definitely something wrong with this medical report. Why can’t they find the cause of her illness?’

’Could it be that Silas Grant bribed the hospital staff to keep everyone quiet?’

’What is Silas trying to hide?’

He had considered many possibilities, even a terminal illness.

But seeing her bickering with him the moment she woke up, looking so full of spirit, it didn’t seem likely.

He wanted to ask Mia herself, but with her personality, he probably couldn’t believe nine and a half out of every ten words she said to him.

So he had to admit, right now, he really had to rely on Hayes Hughes.

Whether it was for his professional expertise or his personal charm...

The man’s eyes flickered. Finally, he picked up the jacket beside him. "Fine, you two talk. I’ll go get you breakfast."

"What do you want to eat?"

Mia Grant was indeed hungry, so she didn’t stand on ceremony with him. She started listing off dishes, counting on her fingers.

As she went on, her voice trailed off. She snuck a peek at the man’s expression. "Is this... a little too much trouble?"

Yates Donovan tilted his head. "That’s it?"

Mia hesitated, then nodded.

Yates turned to Hayes Hughes. "And what about our dear Dr. Hughes? What would you like to eat?"

"No, thank you."

"Get a sandwich for my second brother, and a latte."

Their voices overlapped.

The tip of his tongue pressed against his back teeth. A laugh escaped the man’s lips. "Sure thing. Don’t be polite, it’s no trouble at all."

He quickly put on his jacket and left briskly.

The hospital room door clicked shut, separating two different worlds.

His subordinate, who had been waiting outside for a long time, quickly stood up when he saw him. "Young Master."

Looking at Yates’s expression, the subordinate glanced at the hospital room behind him and frowned.

"If it comes to it, I can have someone deal with him. We can throw him out so he’s not an eyesore for you."

"Throw who out?" Yates was still lost in thought and didn’t hear clearly.

The subordinate quietly supplied Hayes Hughes’s name.

The man blinked, not understanding his subordinate’s train of thought. "If we throw him out, who’s going to keep her company? You?"

He smiled meaningfully. "What, you want to ’get ahead’ too, little comrade?"

The subordinate’s pupils contracted in shock, and a cold sweat broke out instantly. "No, no, no, I don’t know Miss Grant well at all! Of course you’re the one to keep her company!"

"Of course I have to keep her company, but I still have to wait for her to pick my card." The smile in his eyes didn’t fade. "If she doesn’t choose me, what can I do? I can’t exactly throw a fit like a scorned wife, can I?"

"Why make myself miserable? With this time, I might as well find something else to do, enrich my life a little."

"For example?" The subordinate thought he was finally going to put aside his romantic entanglements and throw himself into his work.

Obviously, he had forgotten that Yates Donovan was not a normal person.

"Do you know what a qualified simp should be doing at a time like this?"

The subordinate shook his head.

Yates snapped his fingers in front of him, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "Buy her breakfast, and while you’re at it, get something for the other guy, too."

"..."

The subordinate followed him into the elevator. "Let me go buy it. Why don’t you get some rest?"

’Buying breakfast is such a trivial matter, why does he need to go himself?’

Hearing this, Yates turned his head. "You? No way."

"What on earth does Miss Grant want to eat?"

Yates leaned against the side of the elevator, mimicking Mia’s tone and actions from just a moment ago:

"I want a corn, cheese, and pork floss sandwich, but hold the corn, hold the pork floss, and hold the sauce."

"I want skim milk, oh, and it can’t be too hot or too cold."

"Six wontons, but no filling, just the wrappers. No cilantro, and easy on the salt."

"Oh, right, and can you also get me one-third of a fried dough stick? I haven’t had one in ages, I just want a taste. It has to be fresh out of the fryer, the really crispy kind."

"..." The subordinate’s mouth twitched violently. He wanted to complain but didn’t dare, so he could only say tactfully, "You’re really too good to Miss Grant."

"It’s alright," Yates said, clearly enjoying himself. "It’s not like she’s asking for the moon and the stars. Anything that’s possible isn’t really trouble."

The subordinate stared at the man before him, who was still immersed in his bliss, and was rendered speechless for a moment.

’The power of love is truly great. These days, it can even turn a psycho pervert into a pure-hearted, love-struck fool.’

"Still, I guess I am a little annoyed."

The subordinate was clicking his tongue in silent disapproval when he suddenly heard a sigh from beside him. The tone was faint and ambiguous, as if someone were talking to themselves.

He quickly looked over, only to find Yates still had that same nonchalant, devil-may-care look on his face, as if the sigh hadn’t come from him at all.

The elevator doors opened. By the time the subordinate snapped out of it, Yates was already humming a little tune and tossing his car keys as he sauntered out.

’So it must have been my imagination.’

The subordinate walked out of the elevator, then glanced back one more time before the doors closed. This was the VIP inpatient ward of a private hospital; the elevators weren’t used that frequently.

And just now, there had only been the two of them in the elevator...

’If it wasn’t Yates, who could it have been?’

The subordinate couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.

He had a feeling that Yates wasn’t as carefree as he appeared on the surface.

He acted all magnanimous, but deep down, a storm was brewing in silence...

It gave him the distinct feeling of someone who would smile and say, "It’s fine, I don’t mind, anything’s okay," then turn around and, in one clean stroke, murder the other guy.

HISS.

The subordinate wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

It sounded absurd, but if it was Yates...

...it wasn’t like he was incapable of something like that!