Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 83: Restless Stench

After Eleanor was caught this time, she imagined countless scenes of meeting Damian Sinclair again.

Apologetic, regretful, perhaps even sorrowful, ultimately left with a sense of loss.

Returning to the monotony of accepting reality.

But at this moment, there were no words.

"Go ahead." Elaine White withdrew her hand, "The ’three-eyed’ aren’t here now, at least you can say thank you to him."

Eleanor began to move her feet, but Damian Sinclair had already walked towards her first, moving through the crowd, passing the Pikachu decorations of the mall, the dim lights only making him appear darker, thinner, with his hair cut short and neat.

He had a travel-weary appearance, with exhaustion written in his eyes.

"I’ve patched up Cillian Grant’s hole. He isn’t willing to set you free, but he probably won’t force you into marriage anymore."

Eleanor’s "thank you" lingered in confusion on her lips and tongue.

"I know there’s still Director Grant’s side. He’s been in contact with the people from the North, but hasn’t made any decisions yet, so you should be safe for now."

What Eleanor wanted to ask got stuck as well.

She hated her own clumsy tongue at this moment.

"Eleanor, you don’t have to speak." There was a touch of humor in his eyes, "Your eyes will tell me everything. I filled the gap, it cost me a lot, but on the other hand, it strengthened the Sinclair and Grant collaboration, so I didn’t lose out. As for Director Grant, I did nothing. It was his grand gestures about marrying you off that made everyone know."

"I won’t be here long, but during this time, I’ll do everything I can to help you, help you—"

The half-sentence he deliberately didn’t say.

Was also in his eyes.

I’ll help you, help your child, help you fly to freedom, don’t feel burdened.

......

"To know what’s unattainable, entrust the lingering sound to the lamenting wind."

Eleanor wrote this out stroke by stroke many times in school.

Back then, it just seemed awkward and hard to remember, the strokes irritating.

But now.

Language is too insufficient to piece together one-tenth of her feelings, only this line comes to mind.

Only this line.

It’s not about adults’ utter failure, incomprehensible.

Elaine felt the sorrow too.

Back in high school, Eleanor and Damian Sinclair seemed like the perfect dream couple in everyone’s eyes.

Fulfilling all the fantasies about love, the assumptions of being lovers, the expectations of marriage.

"How about—we all have dinner at my place tonight? It’s been so long since the old classmates gathered, it’s as if we’re strangers now."

Damian Sinclair slowly shook his head, "No, I’ll pass, it’s troublesome."

They all understood what this trouble meant.

So much so that Elaine wanted to laugh it off and say, "If you cook, it won’t be troublesome," but she couldn’t.

"Why not go?"

A voice suddenly came from behind, very close, just a few steps away.

Eleanor felt that in the blink of an eye, a firm chest was pressed against her back, rising and falling. The heat from the taut muscles seemed to penetrate her clothes, scorching her, making her want to escape.

"You went around half the city just to see her." Cillian Grant’s voice was close to her scalp, his breath blowing her hair, "To see her but not have a meal, what a waste of your effort."

"You all eat." Eleanor moved away from his front, taking her suitcase, "I’m going back first."

Cillian Grant grabbed her wrist, took the suitcase, "Going back where? After your unclear relationship with the Grant family’s young lady’s husband, brazenly going back to the Grant Family?"

Damian Sinclair’s expression turned cold, "Elaine only made a polite suggestion, neither Eleanor nor I agreed."

"You and?" Cillian Grant’s lips twisted into a mocking smile, "This word ’with’ reeks of disobedient stench, making one want to throw up."

"Then what kind of obedience does Vice Director Grant prefer?" Elaine helped Eleanor pry his fingers open, "In normal encounters, people just greet each other, but to make a fuss, even in ancient times, there wasn’t such a thing as condemning someone to death over a single sentence."

The man’s fingers were like steel clamps; the two of them working together couldn’t pry them open. Eleanor could feel his loathing for Damian Sinclair meeting her had reached an insurmountable level.

And such insurmountable matters wouldn’t end until she received a lesson, begged for mercy, and calmed his fiery anger.

She motioned for Damian Sinclair and Elaine to leave first.

Damian Sinclair didn’t want to, but Elaine decisively pulled him away.

Cillian Grant wasn’t a good person at all; every extra second Damian Sinclair stayed here was a spark setting off a fuse, intensifying the conflict. It’s better to trick him into leaving first and come back to rescue Eleanor.

Eleanor received her discreet signal, bowing her head to think of a strategy.

This floor’s women’s shoes and clothing were significantly cheaper compared to the high-end luxury brands downstairs. Couples passing by were all young people, generally dressed casually.

Cillian Grant dressed in a suit and tie, with a commanding and ascetic aura, his powerful presence was striking in the crowd.

Eleanor didn’t want to spend much time with him in a public place; if someone photographed them and it got to Mr. and Mrs. Grant, it would be another tough battle to fight.

She unlocked her phone to check the time, "It’s already past five, are you hungry?"

Her attitude was unusually calm, Cillian Grant was taken aback, his temples still tense, but what he said was, "Where did the phone come from?"

His attitude loosened, no longer holding on to Damian Sinclair.

Eleanor relaxed her nerves and walked towards the elevator, "I just bought it. In modern society, you can’t have everything, but you can’t be without a phone; it would be very boring."

"Boredom is self-inflicted."

Cillian Grant’s jaw was tight, "If you had listened even once, you wouldn’t be in this situation today."

Eleanor pressed the elevator button.

She sensed the sharpness of the man beside her, understanding that he was not only referring to her current disobedience but countless times before.

Ultimately, it was because she didn’t want to lose her identity.

While Cillian Grant just needed a person without thoughts, someone who didn’t rebel.

Eleanor had exploded once; this time, she could remain calm.

Calm enough that she couldn’t speak.

Thankfully, the elevator stopped just then, the door opened, and there were already seven or eight people inside.

The cabin wasn’t large, with seven or eight people it wasn’t crowded, but Eleanor hesitated, "Why don’t we wait for the next one?"

Just as she finished speaking, someone inside pressed the close button, and the elevator doors slowly closed. A man suddenly asked, "Why wait for the next one?"

Eleanor glanced at his face, dignified and handsome, with a strong sense of distance, and then at his attire, his straight suit, his outstanding height, a heavy oppressive presence.

In a confined space, like a great white shark in a fish tank, remaining still but exuding an overwhelming force.

More importantly, it was too crowded, and the shark’s anger would double.

"You’re used to special-access elevators, not accustomed to such crowded situations."

Others aren’t used to having a great white shark standing beside them either.

Cillian Grant stared at her through the elevator’s reflection, the bright light illuminating her like a tranquil lake under a moonlit night, soft, shimmering, gently rippling, beautiful yet indifferent.

Only occasionally, and infrequently, would it send a breeze, lightly and carelessly brushing past you.

The lake doesn’t mind, but people can’t forget.

.........

When she reached the underground parking lot, Aaron Chase was unexpectedly not in the car.

Eleanor feared Cillian Grant intended to take her to a hospital for an examination, dragging her feet, not getting into the car. Elaine was escorting Damian Sinclair, and they were likely in the underground parking lot too.

But the underground parking lot of the mall seemed endless; she began to regret it. In a hurry, she made the wrong decision; even a café would have been more reliable than taking the elevator down to the parking lot.