When The Family Reads The Fake Heiress Mind novel Chapter 201

When the Family Reads the Fake Heiress‘ Mind

Chapter 201 Ripping The Bandaid Off

Finished

“Give me a little time,” Queenie said calmly, adjusting her breathing as she tried to suppress her emotions. “I’ll interrogate her as soon as possible. If she’s cleared, I’ll personally make sure she’s returned home safe and sound.”

She was unusually fixated on interrogating Jean.

Carl narrowed his eyes and watched her without giving a clear response.

Queenie pressed her lips together and continued, “Even if you let her go now, I won’t stop.”

Her eyes swept over Jean, glinting with a cold, obsessive light. “You know me. I never back down until I get what I want… I’ll keep watching this kid. I’ll find more cracks.”

Jean’s eyes widened slightly in shock.

What the hell is wrong with this psycho? She’s going to stalk me?

Being watched like that? She might as well be in prison.

She sighed reflexively, her eyes drifting upward–only to lock eyes with Carl’s deep, unreadable gaze.

At some point, he had turned to look at her.

He studied her with a cool, detached expression, his thoughts hidden behind a stony face.

Look at him, pretending to be all mysterious… Ugh.

Carl: ?

Can’t count on anyone. Better rip off the bandage fast than drag this out.

Jean clenched her fingers, suddenly steeling herself. She looked straight at Queenie and spoke with force.

“Enough-”

“I’ll go with you. I’m willing to be investigated.”

Queenie raised an eyebro

Prised.

Carl, on the other hand, wasn’t.

Judging by Jean’s inner monologue, this girl absolutely hated being watched. She would rather be take for questioning than have Queenie breathing down her neck.

Since she’d made the choice herself, Carl said nothing more.

Truthfully, the idea that he’d even considered letting Jean go just now–that was the real problem. That

There, a matte–black van was waiting.

Without hesitation, Queenie pushed Jean into the back.

She kept a close eye on her, watching like a hawk in case Jean tried anything funny.

Jean instinctively retreated to the farthest corner of the van, curling up in a defensive posture. Queenie sat

between them. next to her, though she left some space

Carl took the front seat alone.

With the rumble of the engine, the van began to move.

Their destination-

The headquarters of the Secret Service.

To the average person, the Secret Service was already shrouded in mystery and power. Its headquarters? Even more unreachable.

But Jean felt surprisingly calm.

She leaned her head to one side, resting it against the dim window.

The light inside the van was dull. The air felt just as heavy.