Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 135

Since the accident that had crippled his legs, Haskell had temporarily handed over the company’s affairs to Draven and Thatch, focusing on his recovery at home. But his growing suspicions about his father and brother prompted him to return to the office today.

However, just as he was about to leave, a middle-aged man in a sharp suit approached him.

“Mr. Haskell,” the man said in fluent English, “my name is Dr. George. Your father, Mr. Thatch, has brought me from overseas to be your psychotherapist. May I ask where you are going?”

Haskell raised a hand, signaling the attendant pushing his wheelchair to stop. He sized up the man before him. “Do I need to report my whereabouts to you?”

Dr. George smiled thinly. “Not at all. However, as your therapist, I would strongly advise you to focus on your rest and recovery. Please, cooperate with my work. I need to conduct an initial psychological assessment to develop an effective treatment plan for you.”

He pulled a clipboard with a questionnaire from his briefcase.

Haskell’s lips curved into a slight smile. “How much did my father pay to bring you all the way here?” Before George could answer, he continued, “Yesterday, I had all of my father’s credit cards and bank accounts frozen. From now on, any expenditure beyond his basic allowance will require my personal approval. Which means, without my consent, he can’t even afford your consultation fee. Are you sure you still wish to accept his commission?”

Dr. George’s professional smile faltered.

Haskell’s own smile widened. “It doesn’t matter whether my father truly hired you for my mental health or simply to spy on me. I’ve made the situation clear. However, I won’t let you leave empty-handed. You may remain here under the guise of being my therapist. I will cover your fees—in fact, I’ll double them. After all, I suspect my esteemed father might be the one in need of therapy soon enough.”

Outside the manor, Crispin was waiting. He approached, took over pushing the wheelchair, and helped Haskell into the car before stowing the chair in the back.

“What did you find?” Haskell asked, retrieving a pen from the console and beginning to fill out the psychological assessment.

Crispin fastened his seatbelt and started the engine. “I went to the orphanage where Draven and Valeria were raised. The woman who dropped Valeria off was a former employee of the Palmer Group. She was fired for some reason, took a severance package, and left Regal City. Her files and photo are in the envelope next to you.”

Haskell’s pen froze. He glanced at the manila envelope on the passenger seat, set down the clipboard, and opened it.