Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 221

The maid immediately backed down, helplessly watching Sebastian walk toward the study.

At the study door, Sebastian paused briefly, then pressed down on the handle without knocking. The door wasn't locked; he entered effortlessly.

"Who is it?"

As soon as he pushed the door open, a sharp rebuke came from inside.

The voice was stern and intimidating—enough to make an ordinary person apologize and retreat.

But Sebastian was no ordinary person.

Hearing the harsh tone, he merely raised an eyebrow slightly. His leather shoes made soft tapping sounds on the floor as he entered the study and cast a glance at Shane, who had already regained his composure.

"It's you."

Seeing Sebastian, Shane smiled, his expression friendly though his eyes revealed displeasure.

"We haven't seen each other for just a few days, and you're already throwing your weight around in my place?"

Sebastian's behavior lacked any courtesy—by anyone's standards, it was provocative.

Shane had every right to be upset.

Of course, Sebastian had done this deliberately.

He approached Shane's desk and sat in the barrel-shaped chair across from him. The firm cushion barely indented under his weight.

Though the chair was comfortable enough, it did nothing to improve Sebastian's expression.

"Is that so? Didn't you start this?"

Faced with Shane's criticism, Sebastian gave a soft laugh and countered.

This sudden, inexplicable accusation made Shane's skin crawl. He immediately frowned. "What are you talking about? Jokes are fine, but don't make baseless accusations!"

He refused to accept any blame.

"I suppose you no longer want those port concessions," Sebastian said, raising an eyebrow and brushing nonexistent dust from his lapel.

Hearing this threat, Shane's frown deepened.

Knowing Sebastian well, he realized something must have seriously displeased him.

But what could it be?

He had assigned nearly all his bodyguards to protect Sebastian's woman at the hospital, just to prevent any similar incidents.

He'd thought everything was fine, yet Sebastian had shown up to confront him.

Shane quickly searched his memory.

He had recently taken advantage of his collaboration with Sebastian to engage in some minor schemes, but those were trivial matters—not the kind Sebastian would personally come to address.

After much thought, Shane still couldn't identify the problem and had to ask directly.

"Sebastian, we've known each other for over a decade. Whatever this is, at least let me know what I'm being accused of."

His tone was resigned.

Sebastian didn't want to push too hard—he still needed Shane to deal with James later.

"Where's the photograph?" he asked bluntly.

Shane was bewildered. Photograph? What photograph?

Seeing his widened eyes and genuine confusion, Sebastian frowned. Perhaps the item hadn't been recovered—maybe the man had taken it?

If so, Shane's failure to report the photograph made sense.

Sebastian's anger subsided slightly. He took a deep breath, about to speak, when his peripheral vision caught a sealed envelope partially hidden under some documents.

He swallowed his words and reached for it, pulling out the very photograph that had been missing from the report.

Sebastian's face darkened. He turned the photo toward Shane. "What is this?"

Seeing it, Shane suddenly seemed to remember. "Oh! That fell beside Ms. Seymour when she collapsed. The drug was applied to this."

Realizing this was why Sebastian had come, he quickly continued, "I didn't think it was important, so I forgot about it. See, it's been under these files the whole time."

This explanation aligned with Shane's character.

But Sebastian just snorted, stood up with the photograph, and said, "Fine. I'll chalk it up to stupidity."

He turned to leave, but Shane called after him, "Who are the people in this photo?"

Given Shane's apparent cluelessness, Sebastian merely glanced back and left him with an ambiguous answer.

"Who knows?"

Their conversation in the study hadn't excluded the two Seraphim men.

Sebastian and Shane had spoken in English, which the Seraphim men partially understood. Having observed Shane's reactions, they developed their own suspicions about him.

In the car, Sebastian held the photograph, his gaze fixed on it, his thoughts heavy.

The photo indeed showed Diana and a young Scarlett.

By the looks of it, Scarlett was only about a year old when the picture was taken. She stared directly at the camera, suggesting the photographer was someone close to her.

Yet in all his years of investigation, Sebastian had never seen this photograph before.

Its appearance now made him curious about the Lumarian man. Who could he be? One of the people tracking Benjamin, or...?

The car remained silent for a long while before Sebastian finally moved.

He took a picture of the photograph and sent it to Tiffany.

It was 8 PM in Lumaria, and she was still awake, so her response came quickly.

[Where did you get this photo?]

Sebastian set the photograph down and typed slowly, [Someone found her with this picture. It was laced with a drug.]

After this message, it took a while before Tiffany replied.

[This was taken by Diana's boyfriend at the time—Ms. Seymour's father.]

[He died before Diana. After his death, everything in his apartment was taken. Diana realized they had found her, so she sought protection from the Seymour family.]

Sebastian had no recollection of this part of the story.

In his investigations, this detail seemed to have never entered the scope of the investigators.

There must have been significant interference.

[It must be their people!] Tiffany's messages continued.

Sebastian didn't reply. He raised his hand, tapping his chin with his fingertip.

His brow remained furrowed with worry.

Due to inheritance law restrictions, the people behind this had always operated with extreme discretion—being caught meant death or life imprisonment.

Finding these individuals who were essentially on a suicide mission was like searching for a needle in the ocean.

Sebastian massaged his temples, unsure which angle would lead him to these people.

The cases from years ago had no possibility of being reopened.

The group had been meticulous. Wesley had died in Eldoria from an overdose of illegal substances. His wife's cause of death was undetermined, though informants claimed it was a car accident.

Diana, having witnessed her mother's death at fifteen, went into hiding, but was eventually found by the group and died of illness.

Her lover, the child's father, couldn't escape either—found dead by suicide in his home.

From every angle, their deaths appeared different, each cause withstanding scrutiny.

Now, to draw these people out again would require the appearance of Wesley's descendant.

But exposing Scarlett to public view, awaiting an unpredictable death—Sebastian simply couldn't do that.