The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 348

The bitter wind cut through my coat as I stood on the steps of the downtown preinct, clutching my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. The officer’s words hammered into my chest with each syllable.

My stomach twisted into a painful knot. The ground seemed to shift beneath my feet, forcing me to grip the railing for support. I remembered my father’s face when I’d reported him–not shocked or outraged, but eerily composed.

He was too composed,” I said, my voice cracking as my jaw clenched painfully. He knew this would happen. He was prepared. I swallowed hard, tasting bitterness. “All the evidence I collected–my mother’s journals, the toxicology reports, the bank transfers–everything I fought for… it meant nothing.”

My eyes burned with tears I refused to shed. Not here. Not now.

‘Legal proceedings can be disappointing, Ms. Harper, the officer said, his tone softening. “But the case isn’t closed. The prosecutor is still reviewing additional evidence.”

I nodded mechanically, but his words felt hollow. I stumbled down the steps, my legs unsteady. The justice system I’d believed in had failed me in less than twenty–four hours. My father had walked free with a signature on a check while my mother remained forever silenced. My chest tightened until breathing became painful.

A bright red Porsche 911 pulled up to the curb. Jeremy Pierce leaned against the oor, several faint scars unusually visible on his face. He waved at me, his casual demeanor jarring against my inner turmoil.

I stared at him, confusion cutting through my despair. “Jeremy? What are you doing here?” My eyes focused on the bruises along his jawline and a cut above his left eyebrow. “And what happened to your face?”

He touched his jaw self–consciously and gave a rueful smile. “Ah, this? Occupational hazard, I’m afraid. Had a client meeting yesterday that didn’t go quite as planned. Turns out Mr. Davidson wasn’t thrilled with how his new office building turned out–said it didn’t match his vision.” He shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “When I tried to explain the structural limitations we’d discussed, He decided to express his disappointment more… physically.

“He hit you?” I asked, momentarily forgetting my own troubles.

“Let’s just say customer service in architecture sometimes involves dodging the docasional right hook,” Jeremy said with a dry chuckle. ‘I’ve learned that the customer is always right‘ has its limits, especially when they’re demanding impossible cantilevers that would violate basic physics. He studied my face with those perceptive eyes. “But enough about my bruised ego–and face. Ms. Harper, looks like you could use a listening ear?”

‘I don’t think we’re close enough for heart–to–hearts, Mr. Pierce,” I responded, my voice flat and cold.

“On the contrary,” he moved closer, his eyes studying my face with unexpected perception, “when a beautiful woman exits a police station looking like she might either cry or commit murder, any gentleman should offer assistance. He opened the passenger door with a fluid motion. “Get in. You need to decompress.

‘I don’t think now’s the time for relaxation,” I said, crossing my arms defensively. The thought of small talk made me want to scream.

‘You’ve admitted you’re in a bad mood,” he persisted, gently but firmly guiding n toward the door. ‘What kind of gentleman would let a distressed lady wander the Manhattan streets alone? That would be terribly ungallant.”

I exhaled sharply, too exhausted to argue. “Fine,‘ I muttered, sliding into the sea Take me to my Brooklyn apartment.”

Jeremy flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I have someplace better mind. He started the engine, and we merged into Manhattan traffic.

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21:11 Mon, Jan 12 T

Chapter 348

成60%

During the drive, my phone vibrated with a text from Elsa: “Mr. William has returned to the mansion. I stared at the screen, a fresh wave of anger washing over me. I threw my phone into my bag with more force than necessary, my breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Every time I thought I had found justice for my mother, my father found a way to slither free.

“So what’s got Aria Harper so upset? Jeremy’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

‘My father,” I answered sharply, then noticed we’d diverted from the Brooklyn route. I straightened in my seat. This isn’t the way to Brooklyn.”

*Correct, Jeremy smiled. ‘We’re headed to Long Island. I know a place that II help you forget your troubles for a few hours.”

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