“I’ll leave the rest to you,” Tony stoically informed Leo as he felt the fear radiating from the woman in his embrace. He then tightened his arms around her as he held her closer against him before they walked out.
There was a chill that lingered in Tony’s wake when he left the station. The captain watched him leaving and turned to ask Leo warily, “Mr. Clark, what’s going on here? Miss Fisher said she had Director Hart’s permission before she asked us to make an arrest.”
“Director Hart’s permission?” Leo chuckled dryly, knowing that Lyla had crossed the line. How dare that woman do something like this to Myra?
“I’ve already told you what Director Hart has given permission on, Captain Fowler. It seems like you’re more willing to listen to someone with a pretty face.” Leo’s tone became aggressive.
In the beginning, he had privately informed Captain Fowler to take good care of Miss Stark. Not only did they switch her holding cell, which sent Leo and the others on a wild goose chase, they had also handcuffed her and locked her up in the shabby, dirty hole-in-the-wall.
“I’d watch my back if I were you, Captain Fowler.” With that, Leo walked out of the station without sparing the captain a second glance.
Meanwhile, Captain Fowler was looking grim. A police officer behind him asked, “Captain, are we just going to let them take the suspect away? How are we going to explain ourselves to the superiors?”
A seething Captain Fowler turned and slapped the officer hard across the face. “To hell will I explain myself! I might as well turn in my badge now!”
Along the way, Myra’s bawling eventually became quiet sobs, which then devolved into sniffling. Her eyes were red and puffy; her face also itched from the tear stains. She reached up to her face and furiously rubbed her eyes, as though it was the only way for her to vent all her resentment and anger.
At this moment, a large, warm hand clasped over hers and stopped her from torturing herself even further. “My eyes itch,” Myra whimpered in a hoarse voice as she squeezed her eyes and her tears fell once more.
The car was smoothly cruising down the road as Tony held her in the backseat. His suit jacket was draped over her slim shoulders and she was enveloped by his familiar scent—tobacco and peppermint. She appeared to have cried herself into a stupor as she nestled into the safety of his arms.
A pair of cold lips brushed over the tops of her eyes before it gently kissed them. He was careful with his actions, as though he was kissing something precious. “Here, I’ll rub them for you,” he responded in an equally hoarse voice.
She felt his thumbs graze over the tender skin above her eyes where his lips had been mere seconds ago. It was as though he was massaging the area more than helping her with the itch, but nonetheless, it eased the discomfort around her eyes.
“Does it feel better?” Tony asked when he realized that she was silent in his arms; his voice was deep as it resonated from above her head.
Upon hearing his voice, Myra felt her tears threaten to overwhelm once more. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be… Why would he look for me even after I turned him down? Why would he help me? Who do you think you are, Myra? She felt as though her heart was wrenching and before she knew it, she whispered, “Tony, I was going to divorce Sean today…” Being in his embrace allowed her to finally calm down and her breathing was no longer ragged.
After what seemed like a long moment, Tony merely hummed in response. Myra thought about what had happened earlier today and her lips pursed into a bitter line. “I’m not the person in charge of the Marina Bay Bridge Project. Eve stole my ID after tricking me into going to the Chase Residence and I’m sure the evidence they collected are all fabricated…” she trailed off grimly.
“I believe you.” Tony sighed as he tightened his arms around her while his chin grazed the top of her head in comfort. “You can rest now. You must be worn out after all that’s happened.”
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