From Trash to Treasure: The Sinclair Family's Beloved Genius novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167: Chapter 167: Courting Death

Chloe Sinclair’s heart sank.

Remembering what Eight had told her, she looked up at the robbers by the door, and a nameless rage surged within her.

’What kind of monsters are these? After robbing a bank, they’re so afraid of being identified that they’re going to strap bombs to innocent people before they leave.’

The robbers turned back midway, their eyes crazed as they glared at the crowd.

Chloe Sinclair’s gaze darkened. She planted her right foot on the ground, tensed and ready to spring into action.

The robbers slowly approached. The people around them seemed to have guessed what was coming. They wanted to cry but didn’t dare, only letting out soft whimpers. Adults clamped their hands tightly over their children’s mouths, muffling any sound.

In the face of life and death, everyone was trembling with fear.

"Don’t you want money?"

Chloe Sinclair suddenly stood up. Her voice was soft, but her words carried an icy chill.

The robbers stopped in their tracks and instinctively glanced back at their leader.

Chloe Sinclair’s sudden interruption threw a wrench in their plans. The leader was clearly taken aback for a moment.

But before he could speak, Chloe Sinclair said, "My father is Quentin Sinclair, the richest man in Kennet. My second brother is the youngest physicist in Zenthia. If you let us go, they’ll give you however much you want."

"You say you’re the daughter of Kennet’s richest man?" the robber scoffed. "How do I know if you’re telling the truth?"

Chloe Sinclair raised an eyebrow. "You can look it up online."

By now, information about her was all over the internet; it was impossible to hide.

The woman looked back at Chloe Sinclair. Seeing the look in her eyes, she assumed the girl was afraid and comforted her, "Don’t be scared. Auntie’s here."

Then she turned back, a fierce glint in her eyes.

At that moment, fragments of a memory from her past life—a memory of this very robbery—flashed through Chloe Sinclair’s mind.

Back then, the only person in the bank who had fought back against the robbers was this woman. She was a retired military police officer named Susan Warren.

Even though she was retired, she still stood at the forefront when trouble arose.

The rims of Chloe Sinclair’s eyes turned red. Her large, ink-black eyes stared straight ahead, as still as a pool of stagnant water.

"Courting death," she said slowly, her voice devoid of emotion.