Let Me Go, Mr. Howard Chapter 267

But Marco scoffed at that response.

"Trouble? Letty, you've got it all wrong. On Virella Island, trouble steers clear of you—because you're one of the Russo family."

The sheer arrogance in his tone made Scarlett's eyes widen.

She didn't respond, but her mind was already churning with speculation and wariness—not toward Marco, but toward the unfamiliar Virella Island.

"Don't breathe a word of this to Benjamin." Marco didn't mind her silence. He flicked his cigarette into the trash can. "After all, we don't know if they're actually innocent, understand? Think of it as protecting both our necks."

Scarlett understood the logic perfectly. She nodded immediately.

"Oh, and about your cousin." Just as Scarlett was about to leave the study, Marco spoke again, stopping her. "My people did dig up some things. Want to hear it?"

So Scarlett, who'd been about to leave, sat back down.

"Mr. Seymour does have some psychological issues, but the specifics... we really couldn't find anything concrete." Marco propped his chin on his hand, his fingers tapping his cheek in sequence, his face wearing a genial smile. "But one thing's certain—Mr. Seymour requested it himself. And Jacob's got a whole security detail stationed at the hospital, watching him around the clock."

Hearing that, Scarlett's heart skipped a beat. She took a deep breath. "What does that mean? Michael asked to go to that hospital himself?"

How was she supposed to believe that?

Gentle, refined Michael would voluntarily ask to go to a place like that?

Her eyes blinked rapidly. Tears slipped down her cheeks. She immediately ducked her head, raising her hand to wipe them away, her voice thick. "That's impossible. Mr. Russo, you're lying to me, too."

Her choked accusation made Marco smile slightly.

"I'm not lying to you about this."

Scarlett bit her lip, replaying every conversation with Michael in her mind.

He'd never seemed off, not really. Even that day when something was clearly wrong, there'd been no sign of mental distress.

"Letty, think about it—could this be Mr. Seymour making himself bait too?"

Marco couldn't stand seeing Scarlett cry. He cleared his throat, offering this consolation.

The consolation hit the mark.

Scarlett had only recently decided to get involved in this mess. Given her position, her participation could absolutely be called making herself bait.

But she hadn't expected Michael to have the same resolve.

Then again, thinking it over, it made perfect sense.

She and Michael were both Seymours. Even though her maternal grandfather had no connection to the Seymour family, she'd lived with them for nearly twenty years. There was no way she could be separated from the Seymour family.

Right now, Michael alone was holding up the massive Seymour family fortune.

If those people who went after Diana wanted to go after Michael, it would actually be pretty difficult. After all, Michael's background was complicated, and he was practically a public figure—he had quite the profile back home.

Michael voluntarily requesting to go overseas was probably for the same reason as her own plan.

Once she understood this, much of Scarlett's anger and worry faded, and her emotions settled somewhat.

Marco had been watching Scarlett's expressions closely. Seeing them gradually calm, he breathed a sigh of relief, though he couldn't help feeling some dissatisfaction with Sebastian.

If Sebastian hadn't kept things from Scarlett from the start, her emotions wouldn't be this volatile.

As a mob boss, Marco had naturally studied psychology.

All of Scarlett's behavior showed an underlying desperate need to prove her worth—a pattern that typically appeared in severely neglected children.

Yet here it was, manifesting in an adult like Scarlett. That wasn't normal.

Marco watched Scarlett leave the study, mentally calculating the best time to have a serious talk with Sebastian about this.

He understood Sebastian's silence and secrecy weren't malicious, but they were invisibly amplifying Scarlett's insecurity. In the long run, it would only make her behavior more extreme.

...

After ending the call, Sebastian slipped his phone back into his pocket. Just then, Mark, who'd been lagging a few steps behind, returned.

It had snowed in Sovereign City today.

Mark hunched his shoulders against the cold. Once in the car, he handed the newspaper-wrapped box to Sebastian in the back seat.

"Mr. Howard, this is from Mr. Myers."

Sebastian took it without looking and tossed it aside carelessly.

Mark had just gotten in the car, but seeing this, he realized Sebastian was in a foul mood. He kept quiet, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot toward the main road.

"Take me to the Howard Manor."

The silver-black Bentley had barely rounded the first turn when Mark heard Sebastian speak from the back.

He immediately nodded and changed course.

The Howard Manor hadn't received word that Sebastian was coming.

So when the vehicle approached the gate, the security guards were momentarily stunned. But they quickly recognized Sebastian's car and hurried to hit the remote to let him through.

At the same time, word of Sebastian's arrival was immediately reported to George.

When Sebastian got out of the car, he brought the box Mark had retrieved, newspaper wrapping still intact, carrying it openly in his hand.

"Mr. Sebastian Howard."

The butler who came out to greet him was smiling at first, but his expression shifted slightly when he noticed what Sebastian was carrying.

Generally speaking, things wrapped like that were almost always tied to bribes.

Though George was retired now and bribes had nothing to do with him, decades of conditioning made him instinctively wary.

"Mr. Sebastian Howard, this is..."

Seeing Sebastian heading straight for George's tea room, the butler rushed forward to intercept him, his expression turning sour as he pointed at what Sebastian was holding.

"Something from Mr. Myers."

Having grown up in the Howard family, Sebastian knew perfectly well how taboo such things were.

He didn't fuss about it. He simply tore off the newspaper wrapping, revealing the rosewood box inside.

The butler looked at it and reached to open the box.

But Sebastian pulled it back. His tone carried a smile, though his face was ice-cold. "Gary, some things aren't for your eyes."

Hearing that, the butler understood this involved some family secrets. He quickly corrected himself and withdrew his hand. "Yes, Mr. Sebastian Howard. I overstepped."

Sebastian was satisfied enough with his discretion. He nodded slightly and headed straight for the tea room with the box.

George heard Sebastian's footsteps from a distance and had his security detail wait at the door.

Sebastian gave Liam a brief nod in greeting.

"Grandfather."

He entered, hung his coat on the rack by the door. Underneath, he wore a charcoal gray wool sweater—perfectly fitted, slightly loose.

George looked up at his grandson coming around the screen door.

"What brings you here?"