Chapter 199 Arrogant

"Leon is ultimately just a cop from the bottom of society. His behavior is like that of a mad dog driven to the edge of the street; he has no substance other than violence."

Old Sterling's tone turned somewhat cold. "A woman of the Sterling family should never develop any real feelings for a patrolman who only gets a fixed salary."

Old Sterling placed his wine glass on the small walnut table beside him and tapped his fingers lightly on the surface.

"Victoria's best option is to marry into one of those conservative financial groups on the West Coast, or into the family of a senator in Washington."

"She's still not married, which is already taking far too long."

"If she weren't doing so well in the West End, I would have called her back a few months ago and arranged her marriage."

"Her ultimate goal was to secure more stable political allies and financial support for her family, rather than to play a game of mutual exploitation and trust with a street cop."

Only then did he turn his head and look at the retainer who had been standing respectfully in place.

"As for what you just mentioned, the homeless program that Reynolds and Finch came up with."

Old Sterling leaned back on the sofa and gave the final verdict.

"We don't need to get involved. Nor do we need to seek media exposure."

The retainer nodded slightly.

"Since Victoria thinks she can do it, then let her handle this problem herself."

Old Sterling watched the fire in the fireplace gradually dim, his voice calm.

"Let's see if that young man has any other skills besides being able to draw a gun and kill people, when facing hundreds or thousands of homeless people with broken bowls."

"If they can't handle it, and thousands of homeless people bring chaos to the West End's security..."

Old Sterling picked up the whiskey on the table and drank the remaining amber liquid in one gulp.

"Then send someone to inform Victoria to come back to the manor and prepare for her wedding."

Old Sterling slammed his empty wine glass down on the walnut table with a dull thud.

He no longer looked at the intelligence chief who was bowing his head and waiting for orders, but instead swept his sharp gaze toward Richard and Robert in the corner.

"Take these two lumps of trash out of here."

Old Sterling pointed toward the door, his words filled with undisguised disgust.

"I feel disgusted just looking at them."

"Tell security that they are not allowed to step out of the manor for the next three days."

"If anyone dares to secretly let them out, they'll be thrown into the Pacific Ocean to feed the fish."

The intelligence chief immediately bowed slightly, turned to look at the two pale-faced young masters, and made a "please" gesture.

Richard wiped away his cold sweat, while Robert was still trembling. The two of them, like beaten dogs, scrambled out of the study following the intelligence chief.

The heavy oak door slammed shut behind them, completely cutting off any outside noise.

Now only old Sterling and McFarlane remained in the spacious study.

The oak firewood in the fireplace was still crackling.

The two remained silent. Old Sterling picked up the whiskey bottle on the table and poured another empty glass for himself and McFarlane.

The amber-colored liquor shimmered faintly under the dim light.

McFarlane picked up his glass, leaned back in the leather sofa, stared at the wine in the glass, and suddenly shouted.

"Old man."

Old Sterling didn't even lift his eyelids, only letting out a "hmm" from his nose, signaling him to hurry up and spit it out.

McFarlane took a small sip of his drink and said in a half-smile, "I remember, Victoria, that girl, never really got along with you when you were little, right?"

Old Sterling ran his finger along the rim of his glass and gave a cold snort.

"This kid is rebellious at heart."

"Back then, she had just graduated from college, and I arranged her engagement party with the governor's nephew."

"As a result, she climbed out of the window that very night and ran off to Los Angeles to participate in some damn civil rights march."

Old Sterling's voice carried a lingering resentment.

"Later, she insisted on going to the police station, so I let her go."

"I thought that after spending two years at the West District Police Station and learning how dirty the outside world is, she would obediently come back and put on her wedding dress."

"But she actually managed to revitalize the West District Police Station."

McFarlane listened to the complaints and smiled slightly.

"Yes, she's very rebellious."

"She wants to make a difference in this man's world, while you just want her to stay quietly behind the scenes like a traditional blue-blooded noblewoman, drinking afternoon tea and having a few heirs."

McFarlane placed his glass on his lap, leaned forward slightly, and stared into old Sterling's eyes.

"Since the conflict between you and your daughter is so deep, and you said such harsh things just now, saying you'd see how she handled things, and if she messed it up, you'd make her come back for a arranged marriage..."

McFarlane paused for a moment.

"Then why did you make me make that damn threatening call to Judge Smith?"

"Why should I use my entire fortune of dirty laundry to secretly help her and that mad dog named Leon suppress the part of the judicial system that Sterling can't handle?"

Old Sterling's hand, holding the wine glass, froze in mid-air.

"Since she's so rebellious and you don't care at all, why not just let her face it all herself?"

McFarlane gave Sterling no chance to catch his breath and continued to press his advantage.

"If she really can't handle this homeless situation, and is driven to a dead end by that hypocrite Reynolds."

"Can you honestly say with your hand on your heart that you really would stand idly by and watch her get torn to pieces by those hyenas from the city hall?"

"You really won't let me use my connections to bail her out again?"

"Or are you going to secretly manipulate your relationships without letting me know?"

The air in the study seemed to freeze for two seconds.

Old Sterling's well-preserved face twitched noticeably. He slammed his glass on the table, spilling a few drops of wine.

"You don't know anything!"

Old Sterling shouted angrily.

"I did that to protect the Sterling family's reputation in Seattle!"

"If a branch office chief named Sterling is taken away by the Internal Affairs Department for investigation, where will his entire family put their face?"

"I will absolutely not allow that idiot Reynolds to stomp on our family's face!"

He roughly tugged at his turtleneck cashmere sweater, trying to maintain his patriarchal authority.

"I wiped her butt only because she still has the Sterling surname."

"Whether she can withstand the onslaught of homeless people is her own business!"

Seeing that old Sterling's neck was red and he was arguing so illogically, McFarlane did not continue to refute him.

He simply leaned back on the sofa, picked up his wine glass, and hid the mocking smile that he couldn't hide on his face.

"Of course, of course. It's all for the family's reputation."

McFarlane drawled out the words, responding in an extremely perfunctory tone, before downing the whiskey in his glass in one gulp.

Old Sterling glared at McFarlane, snorted heavily, turned to look at the fireplace, and said nothing more.

……

"Officer Vance? Sir?"

Mia stretched out a hand and waved it in front of Leon's eyes; her fair fingers had neatly manicured nails.

Leon blinked sharply, his pupils refocusing as he pulled his gaze away from the bustling Seattle streetscape outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Just now, his passive skill "Danger Perception," which had been silent in his system panel, suddenly jumped up without warning.

Correspondingly, Leon also felt a slight, but needle-like, tingling sensation in the back of his neck.

It was as if a storm was brewing in the West End, somewhere he couldn't see.

"What's wrong?"

Lyon leaned back in his velvet chair, picked up his crystal goblet, and took a sip of ice water, trying to suppress the discomfort.

"Are you thinking about those damn police reports? I told you, today is a paid day off."

"You were the one who stared out the window for a full minute, like an old man with Alzheimer's."

Mia withdrew her hand and awkwardly tugged at the hem of her skirt.

Lyon then turned his attention back to the woman sitting opposite him.

At noon today, soothing cello music filled the background of this Michelin three-star restaurant in the city center.

The people sitting at the surrounding tables were either tech upstarts in suits or old-fashioned tycoons.

Mia, sitting opposite Lyon, didn't seem out of place at all in this environment, because she was like a completely different person today.

She took off her police uniform, which always looked a size too big and was stained with coffee and printer ink. She changed into a fitted black off-the-shoulder dress.

The fabric clung tightly to her petite frame, revealing her impressive curves that had been hidden by the loose police uniform.

My short black hair, which I usually style simply, was clearly styled with a curling iron today, with the ends curled.

The worst part is that her dead fish eyes, which are usually filled with negative energy like "I want to go home" and "I want to die," have returned to normal today. She's even wearing colored contact lenses and has put on exquisite eye makeup.

However, this office worker, who usually sang praises to Leon for half an hour without blushing in order to avoid work at the branch office, appeared unusually nervous at this moment.

Her hands, which should have been flying across the keyboard, were now gripping the silk napkin on her lap tightly.

Why are you staring at me like that?

Mia felt a little uneasy under Leon's gaze. She tried to put on her usual shameless, sassy face, but her voice involuntarily trembled. "Do I have ink from the report on my face?"

"No, I was just looking."

Leon rested his chin on his hand, looking her up and down.

"I seriously suspect that the sophisticated urban woman sitting across from me has kidnapped my personal documents."

"After all, the Mia Torres I know is a miser who would wait for a rainy day to drive her car out in the rain just to save five dollars on a car wash."

Mia's face visibly flushed, but she immediately glared and gritted her teeth in retaliation.

"Shut up, Vance!"

"This is compensation for the past month that you've treated me like a mule."

"If I were sitting here wearing that police uniform, that arrogant French waiter at the door would call the police and have me arrested!"

"Relax, Mia."

Lyon couldn't help but laugh out loud. He snapped his fingers and called over a waiter who was not far away.

"You look like a husky that has wandered into a wolf pack and is trying to disguise itself as a wolf."

"I'm not nervous at all!"

Mia retorted, but then muttered something under her breath.

"I've just... never been to a place where the average cost per person is more than my monthly rent. The French on the menu looks like a mess."

"Then don't watch it."

Lyon snatched the heavy, gold-embossed menu from her hand and casually handed it to the approaching waiter.

"Two signature Wellington steaks, medium-rare. One black truffle foie gras tart."

Lyon didn't even look at the prices; he placed the order in a vulgar, nouveau riche tone.

The waiter maintained a professional smile, gave a slight bow, and withdrew.

Mia stared wide-eyed at Leon's practiced nouveau riche manner.

"Are you crazy? At least look at the price!"

"Director Sterling gave me special funds for activities."

"If Chief Sterling knew you were using the precinct's operating funds to hang out here... having lunch here, she'd crush your head with her high heels!"

"This is called a special meal allowance for informant contact and intelligence exchange. Besides, even if she finds out, she'll just hold her nose and reimburse me."

Leon leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at Mia.

"She's busy dealing with the political donors who are showering her with money because of the improved security, and she doesn't have time to worry about my little bill."

Hearing this, Mia's tense nerves finally began to relax.

She rolled her eyes in her signature way, and like a deflated balloon, slumped back into the velvet chair.

"The corruption of capitalism."

Mia picked up the ice water and took a big gulp, finally regaining her usual listless, overworked tone.

"However, in consideration of today's meal, I forgive you for making me stay up all night typing that damned report on the firefight between dozens of people."

"By the way, the two clerical assistants you promised me are ready to report to ACU."

"I knew Sterling wouldn't let me down."