Chapter 48: The Signing Pen (Please keep reading!)

Hearing the busy tone from the phone, Clement showed no concern. He tossed the folder back to his secretary and said emotionlessly, “Keep a constant watch on Roan Greenwood.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary replied, turning to leave.

Clement lowered his head to continue reviewing the report, murmuring to himself, “Solving a serial murder case in such a short time—he does have talent. But... it’s not enough.”

Rank and status—those were merely excuses Clement used to brush off Veranis. The real reason he rejected the request was that he couldn’t be sure whether Roan had solved the murder case through sheer luck or genuine investigative ability.

Unless Roan could crack the “Lake Victims Serial Murder Case” listed in the files within a short period, there was no way Clement would approve Veranis’s application.

As for that business with taking down a criminal using a fountain pen, Clement didn’t take it seriously at all. Just a little trick, nothing more.

On the other end, after hanging up the phone, Veranis suppressed her anger and, after a long contemplation, guessed that the so-called insufficient rank was just a pretext.

But knowing this didn’t help. When it came to solving cases, Roan would have to rely on himself.

“I’ll notify August tomorrow,” she decided after a moment’s thought. Veranis chose not to tell Roan about this for now; instead, she would call a meeting with August the next day, urging him to push forward with the “Lake Victims Serial Murder Case.”

As long as the case could be closed in the short term, Clement would have no more excuses, and Roan could join the Foundation smoothly.

“Hmph.” With a cold snort, Veranis reached under her desk for a small white notebook and wrote down the events of the day.

“Clement is stalling me, refusing to let Roan Greenwood join the Foundation.”

Just above this line, another entry read:

“August used the Investigation Team 5’s SUV for personal commuting.”

—

At the “Queen of Flames” bar, after a simple dinner, Roan and Lydia returned directly to the manager’s office on the fourth floor.

Unlike the explosive music and vibrant lights downstairs, the manager’s office was peaceful, the only sound being the soft echo of a waltz.

Roan wrapped his arm around Lydia’s waist. As they moved gently to the music, their eyes met.

“Do you know, Roan?”

With a subtle movement, Lydia, dressed in a crimson dress, brushed Roan’s cheek with her right hand, her gaze dreamy as she spoke. “The first time I saw you last night, I knew this would happen.”

“I felt the same, my dear.” Roan’s right hand slid along Lydia’s waist as he chuckled. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you, you etched a mark deep in my heart—one that will never fade.”

A playboy’s silver tongue came naturally, and Roan inwardly cursed Lacey for corrupting him.

Lacey, lying in her car outside the bar: “???”

“I’ve prepared a little gift for you, darling.” Lydia’s smile widened at Roan’s words. She squeezed his behind with a firm hand, then turned to open the side door of the office.

Inside the bedroom, a cozy bed stood at the center. To the left, a rack crowded with clothes; to the right, a few bottles of wine nestled in ice and a steaming coffee machine at work.

Lydia flopped onto the bed, crossed her legs elegantly, and pointed at the clothes rack with a playful glint in her eyes. “Roan, by tomorrow morning, I don’t want to see a single piece of clothing left. Can you manage that?”

Looking at the dozens of outfits, Roan raised his brow and replied with a grin, “Of course!”

But instead of heading straight to the bed, Roan adjusted his trousers and gestured to the bathroom with a smile. “I picked up a bit of a smell at dinner. I’ll take a quick shower first. Care to join?”

“No, you go ahead,” Lydia replied, shaking her head and insisting she had a big surprise to prepare for him.

“I’ll be waiting, darling!” Roan received a blown kiss as he closed the bathroom door. Lydia’s smile faded just a touch.

Hearing the water running, Lydia left the bedroom for the desk, drew a pen from the holder, then returned to the bedside. She fetched a bottle of wine from the ice, poured it into two glasses, and pressed the pen tip over one of them. A few drops of clear liquid slipped into the wine, sending ripples through the glass.

After swirling the wine, Lydia’s lips curled into a slight smirk. She tossed the pen under the bed and reached for the ice.

With a sly smile, she whispered, “A little ice in the glass makes it taste even better.”

“Does it? Let me help you with that.”

Roan, now by Lydia’s side, picked up a piece of ice and dropped it into her glass.

Lydia froze.

Seeing her shock and confusion, Roan’s smile remained gentle. “What’s wrong, darling? Didn’t you want ice?”

A part of Roan had still hoped Lydia was drawn to him purely out of desire, with no ulterior motive. But relying on his former assassin instincts, he’d slipped quietly from the bathroom and caught Lydia tampering with the wine.

He sighed inwardly. The deaths of Lydia’s previous husbands, he thought, were probably not accidents after all.

Still, why had Lydia set her sights on him? He was penniless—no house, no car, no background, his parents gone, couch-surfing with colleagues, sleeping in hotels. Apart from his looks, he had nothing.

What did she want? For him to steal data from the FBI? She’d have better luck with the CIA.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, darling,” Lydia forced a beautiful smile, suppressing her panic as she subtly shifted her left hand. “It’s just a little aphrodisiac, to make tonight more exciting.”

“Oh, really?” Roan smiled even wider, pointing behind her. “If you weren’t holding that pin in your left hand as you said it, your story might be more convincing.”

“...Damn it!”

Cursing inwardly, Lydia dropped the act. A cold gleam flashed in her eyes as she hurled the wine glass at Roan’s face, blocking his view. Immediately she followed up with the pin in her left hand, aiming straight for his neck—a simple, direct move, executed without hesitation.

Unfortunately for her, Roan had been on guard ever since he saw her drugging the wine. The moment she acted, he grabbed the other wine glass from the table and shielded his neck, blocking her hand. At the same time, he seized her right hand, forcing the wine glass toward her own face and shaking it hard, splashing wine all over her.

Clang—

Lydia collapsed to the floor just as Roan’s phone rang. He took it out and saw Lacey’s name.

“Hello?”