It’s night.
Ian Linton had dinner with Chloe Brooke and drove her back to her parent’s ho.
Chloe Brooke reluctantly stood at the doorstep, wrapped her arms around Ian Linton’s neck, and kissed him a few tis on the lips before saying, "Darling, don’t work too late."
Ian Linton gently stroked her hair, his brown eyes looking very affectionate.
He said warmly, "You should rest early. I’ll text you when I’m done with overti."
Chloe Brooke obediently nodded. It wasn’t until Ian Linton got in the car and the car faded from her sight that she sowhat reluctantly withdrew her gaze from the distance.
After they got married, Ian Linton’s routine didn’t change. He still often worked overti. Afraid she would feel lonely at ho, he would have dinner with her, take her back ho, and then return to the office to work overti.
A gentle and considerate husband, which should be a good thing. But ever since they got married, they haven’t had many intimate monts. Ian Linton said that as the end of the year approached, the company was busy, and she couldn’t force him to stay ho with her at night.
In short, it still felt a bit lonely.
Instead, her family praised Ian Linton’s work attitude. To them, a man being focused on his career seed good enough. Her feeling wronged due to the lack of his company seed unreasonable.
Instead, she felt that during their courtship, they spent more ti alone together...
Chloe Brooke sighed lightly with so loneliness, turned around, pushed the door open, and walked inside.
*
Ian Linton slowly parked the car in front of the company.
He took the takeout box he had just bought out of the car, opened the access control, and leisurely walked into the company.
He entered the elevator, went up to his office, turned on the lights, took off his suit jacket, and then, holding the takeout box, walked to the door of the lounge in his office and used his fingerprint to unlock it.
Inside, a faintly tallic dicinal sll wafted out. Ian Linton did not turn on the lights imdiately but walked to the bedside and softly said to the small bulge in the quilt, "Director Ginger, ti to eat."
The lump did not respond to him, and Ian Linton didn’t seem to mind. He put down the al box, turned around, and raised his hand toward the light switch behind him.
At the mont he turned around, a slender figure darted out from the corner and pounced on his back, fiercely stabbing a sharp object into Ian Linton’s unsuspecting neck artery—
"Click."
The light turned on.
The figure paused in midair, her wrist caught in the man’s palm, and the sharp object that was about to pierce his artery could no longer move an inch.
After a few seconds of stalemate, the figure collapsed to the ground as if using up all her strength, breathing rapidly with a pale face.
"Director Ginger," Ian Linton smiled as he crouched down, forcibly took the disposable chopsticks from Daisy Ginger’s hand, "you really never fail to keep worried. When did you hide it? I rember tidying up your tableware properly."
He fiddled with the sharply carved wooden chopsticks in his hand, his tone sounding a bit helpless, then broke the pair of chopsticks in front of Daisy Ginger and threw them into the trash bin.
"So ruthless, you really wanted to kill ?"
Daisy Ginger’s face, lacking any color, showed a trace of extre disgust. She lay weakly on the ground as if she didn’t want to look at him or talk to him, closed her eyes, and turned her head away.
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