Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 150: Cillian Grant Asks How She Is

The gunman was forced to leave the operating table, and she couldn’t control her breathing either.

Just then, the police appeared.

Panic, struggle, calling for help—she hadn’t had time yet.

The nurse pressed her mask tightly, giving a timely hint.

Inside the anesthesia mask was oxygen, with something placed on her neck to make her pretend to be anesthetized, holding her breath in front of the gunman.

Eleanor had dared to take risks before, feigning death on the operating table, which naturally had its reasons.

Twenty-three years ago, Soldane Province witnessed a shocking national "2.17" kidnapping case involving an overseas Chinese couple investing in the country. The provincial department formed a special task force; more than three thousand elite officers were mobilized in a grid-search across Soldane Province.

Unfortunately, surveillance cameras were not widespread at the time, and the police deployed mass manpower without counting the cost, taking two weeks to find the overseas Chinese.

By then, the husband of the couple had tragically died, while the wife had miscarried and was critically bleeding, leaving the billion-dollar investment unfinished.

The details of the case have yet to be made public. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

But within the upper echelons, both known and unknown details first caused an uproar, followed by deep secrecy. After Eleanor’s generation was born, each family tacitly adopted an unwritten rule.

No matter how dim-witted the offspring, the fundamental survival projects must be mastered. Swimming, driving, basic self-defense skills, and even dedicated training for dealing with kidnapping and extortion were provided.

Among these, Eleanor excelled at swimming, could dive deep, and hold her breath skillfully, barely passing the man’s tests.

The group eventually left.

Eleanor’s situation was far from good; the day had been thrilling—from the car crash with Mr. Ghost where the seatbelt pressed against her abdomen, to later moments hanging by a thread where her emotions surged. The visible bleeding indicated a threatened miscarriage, making it unlikely the child could be saved.

The gang, avoiding moving her, decided to hide her under their nose in a residential building near the hospital.

She could see the reactions of Cillian’s group and Mr. Ghost.

Just as she was settling in the residence, the female doctor arranged various measures, trying to preserve the pregnancy.

With the medication’s effects and the gangs’ plausible reasons for reassurance, Eleanor couldn’t resist fatigue and slept for an entire day.

Now, it was the morning of the third day since feigning death, waiting for the female doctor to leave after administering the antenatal injection.

Unable to endure it any longer, she told the gang, "Mr. Ghost needs to act as though I’m dead to deceive both groups, so he can’t appear here. What about Damian Sinclair? In the country, The Grant Family wouldn’t dare send anyone to track him. It wouldn’t hurt for me to call him."

The gang left someone to protect her—a young man around her age, slightly familiar with Therasia language, wearing modest and pragmatic clothing without the gang’s aloofness, easily earning goodwill.

"Eleanor, your petty enemy returned to your country, learned of your supposed death, and went berserk, wanting immediately to fly back to Froskar only to be physically stopped by your major enemy. Sinclair said the situation is dire now, a tumultuous storm, thunderously furious. He told us not to contact him hastily, lest we startle the snake."

Therasia language is rich and vast; foreigners having not studied it professionally might use words incorrectly, which is quite normal.

Furthermore, with the context clear, Eleanor found it easy to understand.

"Wells Johnson Adrian—"

"Just Wells, Eleanor." The man shrugged. "Using the full name is polite but very formal; I thought after going through something big, we could be friends."

"Wells." Eleanor forced a smile, "Regarding our domestic situation, has Sinclair told you anything specific?"

"Of course he has."

Wells recalled, "Sinclair said your petty enemy has split with your major enemy over you. After being forcibly brought home, he suddenly vomited blood and fell into a coma, landing in the hospital. His subordinates declared war on the major enemy at their company, causing uncontrollable chaos."

"Your petty enemy’s mother is deeply pained and offended, venting blame on Sinclair by constantly causing trouble, along with their daughter, who crazily moved into the Sinclair household to continuously argue with him."

Eleanor lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Cillian vomiting blood and being unconscious in the hospital, yet his subordinates dared to declare war against Mr. Grant at Grant Group; this was utterly absurd.

Over four years, Eleanor somewhat understood the nature of Cillian’s subordinates.

Those people were taciturn, pragmatic, highly disciplined; unless Cillian made a decision, they would endure job loss without taking action, totally trusting Cillian.

It was impossible for them to lose their composure under fury and go against Mr. Grant.

Unless Cillian vomiting blood and being in a coma was merely a facade, hiding backstage with plans to fight for power and money with Mr. Grant.

Causing a big scene, Mr. Grant couldn’t hide it from Mrs. Grant; the fiercer the father-son feud, the more her resentment found nowhere to go, targeting Damian Sinclair accordingly, which perfectly fit her character.

Moreover, there was Phoebe Grant, the daughter who had devotedly loved Damian Sinclair for four years and, at the brink of pregnancy, Sinclair betrayed the daughter, betrayed The Grant Family, to help her, the root of disaster and the culprit.

Eleanor could almost predict what means Mrs. Grant would use.

Phoebe Grant moving to Sinclair’s house made even more sense—her character wouldn’t allow Sinclair to easily get away without thoroughly disgracing The Grant Family.

"I dragged him down."

Eleanor no longer intended to demand a call with Damian Sinclair.

After thoroughly planning their original plan, they had considered the possibility of Damian Sinclair being exposed but never this soon.

Probably, after her death was confirmed by Mr. Grant, with Cillian being restrained in-country, an internal feud ensued within The Grant Family.

Cillian wouldn’t easily believe she was dead, would absolutely send someone to Froskar to verify, yet wary of Mr. Grant, wouldn’t expose Damian Sinclair for a while.

Meanwhile, Sinclair, as a powerful external assistant for Mr. Grant’s side, could potentially counteract against Cillian, causing him to lose in the power struggle with Mr. Grant.

Even if Cillian ultimately won, it would be a pyrrhic victory.

And during The Grant Family’s internal strife, Sinclair would gain many benefits. By then, even if Cillian wanted to target Damian Sinclair, the shifting power dynamics wouldn’t allow it.

That was also why Eleanor believed she could restore Damian Sinclair’s marital freedom.

But now, Damian Sinclair’s premature exposure cemented a deadlock, making her apparent "death" best for The Grant Family.

Otherwise, without even considering the family’s reaction upon discovery, just Phoebe Grant’s deepened hatred alone could lead to unalterable consequences.

Wells left the room, heading downstairs.

The living room was smoke-filled, with a man in his mid-fifties or sixties sitting on the sofa, who, seeing Wells come down, stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

Wells walked up to the sofa. "Father—"

"No need to report to me." He motioned with his hand, "You only need to report all matters concerning Miss Eleanor to Mr. Grant."

Wells acknowledged.

The man gestured for him to step outside, "There’s a Therasian saying: ’Walls have ears.’ Mr. Grant specifically instructed that Miss Eleanor is incredibly smart, bold, and unorthodox. Therefore, you must never contact Mr. Grant within this house."

Wells bowed in acknowledgment, exited the residence, got into a roadside Passat, and locked the car door before dialing a number on his phone.

Aside from the international call delay, the connection was virtually instant, with someone answering just as quickly.

From the receiver came a voice, tired yet undeniably commanding.

"How is she?"