I Faked My Death—Now I Have to Tame the Crazy Men I Left Behind-Chapter 55 - 53: Baby, I’m Here to Save You

How could she even describe this scene?

Mia Grant thought she would probably remember it for the rest of her life...

Before today, she had never really found her ex-fiancé to be all that striking.

The male leads were all handsome, of course, but each had his own style and unique characteristics.

Yates Donovan’s looks were on the flamboyant side, with a pair of seductive, amorous eyes. Combined with his nonchalant personality, he was the archetypal playboy, whether in ancient times or the present day.

However, his disposition had a certain pride and composure that set him apart from your average rich heir.

He was like a ne’er-do-well from a prestigious family.

His mind was entirely focused on wining, dining, and pleasure-seeking, making him seem rather unreliable. Yet, he was a bona fide blue blood.

But compared to Hayes Hughes, neither Yates’s looks nor his personality had ever particularly appealed to her.

Furthermore, after transmigrating into the book, Yates had appeared before her so rarely that her memory of his face had started to fade.

But today, right now, in this very instant, she suddenly *got* Yates’s charm.

When the cynical young master heard that someone might have died on her end, he didn’t have much of a reaction. Instead, he propped up his head, nonchalantly raised his eyes to look at her, and his gaze was like he was watching an actress on stage.

Seeing her jump around in a panic, he clapped his hands in satisfaction and praised her for a good performance.

Honestly, he had no empathy, treating everything with a kind of playful indifference.

He was far more terrifying than someone like Kian Keller, who was just cold to the bone.

If she asked Kian Keller for help, he would just refuse her outright, even if he didn’t want to get involved.

But Yates... he was the type who, when a situation had already devolved into utter chaos, would sit by the pot, leisurely add a few more handfuls of rice, then tell everyone not to rush, to sit down and have some while it’s hot. He’d even say there’s plenty for everyone, no need to fight over it.

A classic case of someone who loves to watch a train wreck and isn’t afraid to add fuel to the fire.

That was him.

But now? This was the same arrogant man who, one second ago, was trading nonsensical jokes with her. The next second, he had suddenly appeared right in front of her.

One hand in his pocket, he leaned down slightly to meet her stunned gaze, his seductive eyes, full of mirth, tilting up at the corners.

’It was as if he were saying: ’Stop staring like a fool, baby. I’m here to save you.’’

A snap of his fingers successfully jolted Mia Grant awake.

Coming to her senses, she quickly hung up the phone.

Yates looked at her. "You..."

The figure opposite him suddenly shoved him aside.

Yates froze for a moment. His smile vanished, his dark eyes narrowed, and his gaze quickly followed her.

Mia Grant had already run out.

"Tsk, you’re getting less and less cute."

He tossed his phone to a bodyguard and followed after her, calm and unruffled.

The living room.

When Mia Grant came out, she didn’t see Hayes Hughes. He had already been taken to the hospital by Yates’s men.

In the messy reception area, Silas Grant was left sitting alone on the sofa.

’Unexpectedly, his blackening value showed no signs of fluctuating.’

’Which proved that the source of all his anger was Hayes Hughes...’

Mia Grant let out a sigh of relief and secretly sized him up.

Silas Grant’s meticulously tied necktie was crooked, his tie clip was nowhere to be found, his expensive, handmade suit was wrinkled, and his signature glasses were also gone.

Without the lenses to shield them, the man lost his usual refined and gentle air. His features were sharp, especially now with his face devoid of any smile, his jawline tight. Half his face was hidden in shadow, and the vicious aura around him seemed not to have completely dissipated.

The lion was not asleep, merely taking an intermission, giving its prey a slight chance to breathe.

Mia Grant stopped a good distance away from him, not daring to get any closer.

She knew this was the real Silas Grant.

The gentleman was just his disguise; a thug in a suit was his true self.

He was an absolute perfectionist, a superior being who was always high above everyone else, never showing a single shred of humility.

Sinister, ruthless, and pathological—that was him.

When Yates Donovan sauntered over and saw her just standing there foolishly, he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

He looked like he was about to say something, but for some reason, he just brushed past her shoulder and walked into the living room.

He kicked aside the trash scattered on the floor and sat down across from Silas Grant.

"Silas, you nearly beat the guy to death."

"With that flimsy build of his, Hayes is no match for you."

Silas Grant shot him a look, his eyes full of stern warning.

Yates completely ignored the warning and continued his taunts.

Silas asked him if he had a cigarette. Yates patted his pockets and tossed one over.

A flame leaped to life, and a crimson cherry quickly glowed.

The smoke swirled, obscuring the man’s face.

Finishing one didn’t seem to bring him any relief or comfort.

He tapped another one out of the pack, flicked the ash from the first, and lit the next.

He just sat there, his tall frame sunk into the sofa, smoking in silence.

His face was expressionless, yet it gave one the feeling that he was somewhat forlorn at that moment.

Mia Grant watched silently from a distance, finding the scene incredible.

’The atmosphere is a little strange. I shouldn’t stick around.’

Just then, Yates looked up, gave her a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, and shot her a look.

’Got it!’

Mia Grant understood, immediately glanced toward the door, and took a step—

"Well, well, is my fiancée in such a hurry to see Hayes Hughes?"

From the living room, Yates was sprawled casually on the sofa, propping his head up with one hand and grinning at her.

"..."

At the same time, the lion reawakened. Through the hazy layers of smoke, a pair of sinister, ruthless eyes locked precisely onto her.

Their eyes met, and Mia Grant subconsciously held her breath.

After two seconds of stillness, she closed her eyes in resignation.

’Dammit, that idiot Yates!’

"No, Brother, are you okay...?" Opening her eyes again, Mia Grant quickly slipped into character, looking at Silas Grant.

Across from her, the man had already stubbed out his cigarette, picked up his glasses from the side of the sofa, and put them back on.

He looked up and smiled at her as if to soothe her. The smile on his face was no different from usual, flawless.

"Mia, come to your brother," Silas Grant said, holding out his hand to her.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

The vicious aura that had enveloped him was also an illusion.

Mia Grant couldn’t help but marvel. She had always thought her acting skills were pretty good, but now it seemed there was an even more professional actor right here.

’He gets into character in a minute, putting on a show anytime, anywhere.’

She walked forward and stopped beside Silas Grant.

The man took her hand. The smile in his dark eyes deepened; he was very pleased with her obedience.

Mia Grant looked down and saw a drop of blood still staining the back of the hand that held hers.

Her pupils contracted violently. ’Is that... Hayes Hughes’s?!’

Following her gaze, Silas Grant also noticed the filth on the back of his hand.

He didn’t panic. He just smiled calmly, pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from the upper left pocket of his suit jacket, and casually wiped the drop of blood away.

The handkerchief was dark, and the scarlet liquid quickly soaked in, disappearing from sight.

Like a snowflake falling on a lake on a winter’s night.

"Alright, it’s time to go home with your brother."

The handkerchief was left in the ruins of the living room, trampled under his foot.

He was going to take her away.

A chill ran down Mia Grant’s spine, and the palm of the hand held by Silas Grant began to sweat.

Finally, the third person in the room, who had been treated like thin air up until now, had seen enough of the show. "Hold on."