Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 82: On the New Escape Plan

Top executives hold meetings, travel for speeches, and wish to broadcast globally, but privately, every word is worth a fortune.

A casual mention in their conversation can have a profound impact across various industries.

Cillian Grant has been a dominant business figure in both the North and South for the past four years, and has old ties with this leading figure, Mr. Sinclair.

Seeing him, the secretary hurriedly walked out to greet him, grasping Cillian Grant’s hands and shaking them, "Vice Director Grant."

The manager wisely retreated, and the secretary whispered, "The Xavier Family’s internal conflict is big news in Indigo Province, and Mr. Sinclair is very concerned. The industry is thriving and should be stable, but Third Young Master Sinclair is stepping in with some boundary issues for you to manage."

This means widening the scope.

Cillian Grant nodded without betraying any emotion.

Avoiding the rosewood screen, Cillian Grant gracefully took his seat. He always preferred heavy black clothing, exuding an invisible pressure and demeanor unique to himself. Sitting next to the official aura of Mr. Sinclair, neither was overshadowed.

This highlights Damian Sinclair on the other side, weary and youthful.

Like a scholar exhausted from travel.

Once the gathering dispersed, Mr. Sinclair left with his secretary, Damian Sinclair’s warm smile dropped immediately.

His gaze lingered on Cillian Grant, "After today, the bank will increase the Xavier Family’s loan limit. While it won’t solve your crisis directly, a quarter of it is in danger."

Cillian Grant loosened a collar button, his stiff clothes relaxed, without lessening seriousness, his threatening aura remained intact, perhaps even stronger.

"Mr. Sinclair may be born into the Sterling Sinclair Family, but he’s outside the five generations. Convincing him to step in surely took significant effort."

"No need for sarcastic beating around the bush." Damian Sinclair stood up; his skin, tanned in Afreia, now appeared pale, "Release Eleanor. Phoebe Grant said you want to sever her surname and draw a clear boundary. I don’t understand your intention, but I know you won’t truly let her leave."

"Oh?" Cillian Grant, intrigued, gestured with his hand, "State your reasons."

"Cillian Grant, I am not your subordinate." Damian Sinclair said word by word, "Your high-handed attitude only reveals your arrogance in front of me."

"The attitude varies from person to person."

The Serene Garden’s antique lighting was like candlelight, flickering over Cillian Grant’s black suit, casting a layer of softened warm light, as he turned the teacup on the table, indifferent, casually teasing.

"For those who beg me, a low stance is unbearable, but if it’s family, a high stance is unnecessary. Right, brother-in-law?"

Damian Sinclair’s chest heaved violently, he took a deep breath, suppressing it, "You’re right, I paid a huge price. This price, I’m buying Eleanor’s freedom."

Cillian Grant paused, the light reflecting off the teacup’s water surface, revealing a fiery sharpness, "Are you worthy?"

He placed the teacup down, stood up, and patted Damian Sinclair’s shoulder, forcing him to sit down.

Damian Sinclair shrugged off the grip, but the man’s hand was immovable as a mountain, irresistibly pushing him down, "Brother-in-law—the husband of my sister Phoebe Grant, that’s your protection charm, don’t make me regret those two bullets didn’t pierce your head."

He turned to leave.

Damian Sinclair gritted his teeth, "Eleanor always said she’s mercenary, impressed by power, but that’s just playful words. She has resilience, can endure, yet prefers to break than bend."

The man halted.

"Four years, she’s reached her limit." Damian Sinclair said, "The barefoot aren’t afraid of those in shoes, eggs can’t crush stones, but can leave a scent on stones. You’ve achieved success and fame, have a wise wife and obedient children, a glorious life, why push her to hatred and ruin."

Cillian Grant paused for a second, then laughed mockingly.

How attuned their minds must be to understand each other after four years apart.

One pleaded with unprecedented hysteria, unable to bear it.

The other spoke accurately, every word was right, willing to pay any price to rescue from danger.

He turned, "Your marriage with Phoebe Grant is moved up to New Year’s Day."

Cillian Grant gazed down at him, his eyes sweeping back and forth across his face.

Damian Sinclair stood rigidly, unmoving.

"For the price you pay today, I’ll also pay you back. Consider it a bride price, once she marries—"

His intimidating presence filled with explosive dominance, oppressive, "I’ll give you double."

Damian Sinclair stared at him.

"This price, I will only pay to Eleanor."

The man turned and left as if unseen.

Confident that Damian Sinclair had no tricks left, also held him in disdain.

............

Elaine White came back with a rush.

She picked up medicine and packed lunch.

After the antenatal injection, Eleanor sat up, leaned against the headboard to eat.

She initially tried to get out of bed, but Elaine stopped her.

"Lady, you can’t rest peacefully in the Grant Family, just lie down flat here, rest while you can."

"I can’t rest." Eleanor held the chopsticks, "In the afternoon, I need to report lost documents, buy a phone, replace the SIM card, and buy some clothes."

Documents and phone, Elaine understood those things were in Cillian Grant’s hands, he wouldn’t give them.

But—

"What’s the deal with clothes?"

Eleanor swallowed her food, "When I left before, Phoebe Grant cleared out all my stuff, now the room is used to raise fennec foxes. But that’s also a good thing, Cillian Grant has the key to my room, we used to live on the same floor, now moving downstairs is much safer."

"Is she—forget it." Elaine swallowed the curse, "Just say she’s truly a Grant Family member, the genes are identical."

Eleanor didn’t respond.

Elaine couldn’t hold back, added, "Good-looking ones are called marrying, Phoebe Grant’s type is framing, such a pity for Damian."

By afternoon, Eleanor noticed the bleeding reduced.

Elaine drove her to complete the early parts of the plan, but when it came to buying clothes, they couldn’t agree.

"I don’t want bright colors, black, white, gray matches well."

"Haven’t you noticed? You’re all in black, Cillian Grant is all in black too, are you unconsciously learning from him, or is he learning from you, your couple’s matching outfits?"

"..." Eleanor, "Get me bright red and green, no fitted styles."

Elaine was satisfied, filled two oversized 34-inch suitcases with her achievements.

"Everything is ready, what’s the next plan?"

"I want to go abroad." Eleanor saved a number on her new phone. "In the previous letter Damian Sinclair sent, there’s a list that could help my situation, besides his secretary, assistant, and friends, there are several snakehead agents."

"His arrangements for going abroad are legal and legitimate, unrelated to those snakehead agents, putting them on the list was just a precaution, so Cillian Grant shouldn’t have discovered this path, I want to try this line."

"Going abroad and running far is right, but snakehead agents?" Elaine frowned, "That kind of shady business, taking advantage of loopholes to smuggle people abroad, are they trustworthy?"

Eleanor had fought for four years, always on legal grounds, by legal means, but society has its dark sides where power moves unimpeded, Cillian Grant was precise every time, every time accurate.

After suffering one lesson after another, Eleanor decided to take a big risk.

As bold as people get, as vast as the world becomes.

Once she crossed the ocean, Eleanor didn’t believe the world was Cillian’s oyster, even if he were a giant deep-sea octopus, his tentacles couldn’t stretch across the Pacific Ocean.

"Are they reliable, I don’t know." Eleanor sent a text and then deleted it, "But if I don’t try, I’ll never know."

Elaine raised a thumb, "Okay, your spirit is back."

Cillian Grant hadn’t appeared near her for six hours, surrounded by her closest friend Elaine, Eleanor couldn’t help but hold Elaine’s arm, "I’ll mooch dinner from you tonight, recharge and go back."

Elaine was about to reply, mouth slackening open wide, but no sound coming out.

Eleanor followed her gaze, a short distance away ahead, bustling among the crowd, stood a man.