After divorce I am a billionaire

Violet, not daring to conceal it, nodded quickly. "Yes, he wantedto gain your trust and then lure the kids out." Malcolm's face was dark. His thin lips pressed together without a word, and he looked cold.

Frank really hated him. He can't compete with him, so he threatened his wife and children. They were training together for so many years and he turned into such a lunatic personality.

He didn't understand. He really didn't.

Was it really worth being a suspect for the rest of his life for a scheming woman who'd been dead for years? After a brief lapse of concentration, he stopped thinking, and his dark eyes brightened slightly as he surveyed Violet. "Is there anything else you can tell me? You don't have many chances. Think before you speak.” Violet pondered for a long time, afraid that Malcolm would ask Brad to do something to her that would make her want to die.

"No, | really have no other things. I've told you everything | know." "Fine, I'll keep my promise and let you go." Violet gasped, "I didn't mean it! | know I'm guilty. | confessed. Taketo jail. Lockup!" Malcolm snorted and raised an eyebrow. "You don't get to choose." With tears streaming down her face, she was frightened to death. In great pain all over her body, she crawled to Malcolm's feet on her knees, and tried to grasp his trouser leg to beg.

"Mr. White! | don't want to go out there. That man will kill me!" Brad was very perceptive and stepped forward to block her from touching a corner of Malcolm's shirt.

These days, because of her touch, Malcolm was sick and lost a lot of clothes, which was too wasteful.

Malcolm didn't even raise his eyes. His long eyelashes were drawn down expressionlessly as he stared at the watch on his wrist.

His fingertips were rubbing the lines on the strap on it, and he loved it dearly because it was a gift from his wife.

He instructed Brad coldly, "Before you let her go, send her to the plastic surgery hospital. Ask the doctor to fix her face according to her previous identity card. The cost will be deducted from her mother's bank account.” Even if she died, this woman can't die with Lyra's face on.

"Yes, Mr. White." Violet was dragged away by the police.

Screaming, and wailing in despair, her squeaky voice filled the brig.

Malcolm frowned unhappily and was frustrated by the noise.

Brad watched and winked at the officer to cover Violet's mouth.

He knew why Malcolm wanted to let Violet go. Once Frank knew that Violet had sold him out, he would never let Violet go.

Malcolm was trying to get Frank to do something.

The more times he showed up to do something, there will always be a slip and a flaw.

Brad: "Don't worry. I'll have someone with good cover keeping an eye on Violet, and I'll let you know if anyone comes after her." Malcolm closed his eyes, felt tired, and gave a quiet "Um", which was very flat.

Seeing that he was in a bad mood, Brad quickly advised, "Since madam ran away and wasn't kidnapped by Frank's gang, she shouldn't be injured and probably won't die. You can barely relax.” He didn't speak. His eyes were closed and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

The thought did not stop to clarify the logic of this matter.

With his understanding of Frank, once he becabnormal, he can do anything. The key was that he thought very carefully, and every plan can be done perfectly.

But this time, he put the fake to him. There were too many flaws, completely unlike his usual style of doing things.

He deliberately did not to take the hostage, but left a man who deliberately passed the false hostage message to him. Frank should know that the fake can not hide for long, but Frank did so.

What did Frank want? For sreason, Malcolm always had a bad feeling that Frank was up to skind of sick trick.

Whether it was Spencer's milk powder or Lyra's disappearance, Frank's goal was to make him suffer.

One day without seeing the real Rara standing in front of him, he would not calm down.

With a long sigh, Malcolm raised his eyelashes slightly and asked hoarsely, "Do you have a cigarette?" His mouth was bitter, and something had to be done to distract his attention.

Brad was stunned, and stupefied to react, "Yes." He immediately went to his pocket and took out a pack of cigarette . He hesitated before handing it to Malcolm. "You have been smoking too much recently. When madam comes back, what will you tell her?" Malcolm's brow furrowed and he reached out to him impatiently. "Give it to me," he ordered Yes, Rara didn't let him smoke, but he can't help it.

Without his wife, he just wanted to smoke.

If Rara knew, she would have shown up sooner, and he would have found her sooner.

Then, she should go hand kick his ass.

Whether she would beat his hand or his leg, he would have loved it.

After eight days of being out of touch with his wife, Malcolm suddenly realized that he missed his wife's whip and washboard.

His eyes closed over the broken fog, and Malcolm puffed lazily as Brad helped him light the cigarette.

Two days later.

Violet, who was forcibly admitted to a plastic surgery hospital, did not wake up after the operation under anaesthetic.

By the tofficers from NIB arrived, first aid had failed and her death was confirmed.

Malcolm was furious that a fugitive suspect had reached into a plastic surgery hospital and killed Violet on the operating table.

Two teams from NIB were fully engaged in the investigation.

That afternoon, Violet's autopsy report was obtained.

In her palm, there was a piece of yellow sticker note, but Violet's fingers curled up like a slip of toilet paper so the sticker was forced into her hand unconsciously.

The note quickly passed to Malcolm.

It was the red ink handwriting.

[Malcolm, you love your wife so much. If she cheats on you and spends the rest of her life with her first love behind your back, what would your face look like? Would you go crazy? I'm looking forward to it.] Malcolm looked grim, and his eyes fixed on the word "first love". His fingertips were trembling and his palms were sweating.

Even his breathing hurt.

But subconsciously, he shook his head to deny.

No, Rara would never betray him and the family.

Seeing the note, he immediately understood what Frank was up to.

Frank had already tracked Lyra's location. He must have done something to Lyra.

Recalling that Chad said Anthony had Lyra's location, and he had spersonal business to take care of, Malcolm's face beceven more serious after Anthony disappeared for so many days.

Just with the thought that Lyra might actually be with Anthony, the intimacy, the banter, the flirtation...

His breathing was stagnant. His heart was in great pain. His eyes were red as blood, and his eyes looked murderous.

He couldn't take it.

He was gonna go crazy. He was gonna go crazy! "Have Chad call Anthony. Get Anthony's location, now!" Crumbling the note, Malcolm got up and walked out of the bureau, forgetting his military jacket.

"Yes, wait for me!" It was windy and cold outside. Brad quickly ran over to help him with his coat. He ran after him with his eyes wide open and followed him.