Love's Cunning Ruse novel Chapter 334

Kleist was also a bit aggrieved by Rowan's glare. He had done what Rowan had told him to do. He just didn't expect this to happen.

Indeed, it had been Kleist who snatched Davina from Hayden's clutches. And it was also Kleist who had arranged for Davina's bullet removal without the benefit of anesthesia.

Rowan had suspected Davina's involvement in the tragic demise of Rankin, but he had never intended for her to pay with her life.

So, after extracting the bullet from Davina, Rowan had simply issued a command, leaving Kleist to handle the aftermath.

Kleist had dumped the wounded Davina at a small town clinic, mumbled a few instructions to the doctor, and then cast the matter from his mind. Davina was beneath Rowan's notice.

Kleist had assumed Davina would receive treatment at that humble clinic and hadn't bothered to follow up.

No one could have predicted that Davina would end up abandoned on the West Coast, with wounds festered and gangrenous, forced through the agonies of drug injections and withdrawal. The cruelty was unimaginable.

Suffering from the torment of her injuries and withdrawal, clinging to life yet wishing for death, it was a plight anyone would find unbearable, let alone a young woman like Davina.

"I went back to see the doctor," Kleist told Rowan, "but the doctor's been committed for drug abuse, completely out of his mind. I couldn't get anything out of him."

He asked cautiously, "Should we keep digging?"

"Forget it," Rowan dismissed. Davina was dead, and he had no intention of clearing her name. If not for her, Ryan would still be alive.

"How's the situation with Sansa?" he inquired.

"Professor Fred's daughter, Emily who had the guts to help Miss Sansa," Kleist said, still amazed. Emily was young, an overlooked factor by everyone, but like father, like daughter, Fred's daughter, Emily, was not to be underestimated.

Rowan was equally surprised by Emily stepping in to finish Fred's unfinished business. Kleist was still preoccupied with the USB drive, but Rowan said it was no longer important.

What Kleist didn't know was that the USB drive was blank.

When Julie got home with the drive, she dashed to her study without even kicking off her shoes. She slotted the USB into her computer and booted it up, only to discover nothing. It was blank.

Not until then did she realize the ploy.

Kieran seemed to expect this and approached her from behind, gently pulled the USB from its port, and asked, "Sad?"

After reflecting, Julie realized she wasn't. After all, she had a feeling Rowan wasn't to be messed with in the first place, so she actually thought there might be nothing in it, but she was still just holding out hope. She discarded the USB into a nearby cup, half-jokingly questioning Kieran, "What if it had a tracker or a bug?"

Kieran chuckled, "Then let's give them a show of affection."

"What?" Her words were cut off by his sudden kiss.

Despite their years together, Julie's thoughts scattered at his unexpected move.

A phrase came to mind, "When you're with the right person, every day is Valentine's Day; when hearts are aligned, it's love at first sight every day."

She playfully bit his lip, smiling like a crescent moon, lovely in its mischief.

He lifted her in his arms, and she, in mock horror, pushed him away and pinched his cheeks into a funny face before asking with childlike glee, "What are you up to in broad daylight?"

"Showing off our love," he declared unabashedly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and asked, "Kieran, do I look fat?"

"Yes."

At this point, Kieran should say she was not fat. He liked her even if she was fat. But his answer left her dissatisfied.

Julie poked his chest, "Don't you know I need to be coddled? This is your cue to shine. Besides, Am I fat? If you keep calling me fat, I'll go on a diet, I swear."

Shaking his head with a look of resigned frustration, Kieran offered some advice to Dylan, "There's an old saying for you."

Dylan, smiling, released his grip on Ivan, "What's that?"

Kieran's smile was tinged with irony, "Even a pretty face is no excuse for a lack of brains."

The smile on Dylan's face dropped. Had he just been called stupid? He was flabbergasted, "I've got a postdoc. I've read more books than all of you."

To which Kieran coolly replied, "What's the use of all that reading if you can't even speak right?"

"What did I say wrong?" Dylan was genuinely confused. Weren't all those compliments?

Julie looked at Dylan with pity, "Even as someone barely literate, I can't stand this. You're just calling Kieran an old player, aren't you? You really have a knack for offending people."

Dylan was speechless.

He scooped up Ivan, "Come on, I will teach you how to really make babies."

Julie was about to protest when Kieran asked him, "What brings you over? Teaching my son to play with clay?"

Kieran, ever the quick-wit, had turned the awkward conversation into a child's play. Ivan, hearing this, looked at Dylan with disdain, "Who still plays with clay at your age?"

Dylan was at a loss for words.

Ivan made it clear he had zero interest in clay modeling and strutted off to his bedroom with a twist of his little hips.

Without Ivan, Dylan got serious. He touched his nose and began, "Actually, I'm here because Camilla brought Phoebe back. I've done some research on autism, so I thought maybe we could take him to see Dr. Harding. Also, isn't Amanda getting discharged tomorrow? Does she know about Phoebe?"