I Faked My Death—Now I Have to Tame the Crazy Men I Left Behind

Chapter 304 - 302: Her Grave Goods and Relics

Simon Adler came to his senses and couldn’t help but chuckle. "There’s no one else here. Are you being a little too serious?"

"I’m reminding you."

"Don’t involve Mia Grant."

"Whether others live or die has nothing to do with her."

Simon Adler smiled and nodded. "Alright."

"But, since we’re on the topic, I’m also very curious."

"When she had her accident, what were you thinking? Did you ever consider ending up like Felix Sinclair?"

Silas Grant kept his head down, signing documents as if he hadn’t heard the question.

Getting nowhere, Simon Adler sat for another moment before getting up to leave.

"Give it to me. I have to make a trip to Rhodes’s place anyway, so I’ll take it over."

He took the file from Silas Grant’s hand and had just stood up when he heard the man across from him speak. "If there are grave goods, there are heirlooms."

"If there’s an executioner, there’s a cleaner."

"If someone sets the trap, someone has to sell the lie."

Simon Adler froze, looking at Silas Grant in confusion.

The latter met his gaze with a faint smile. "Anything else?"

"...I’m leaving."

Simon Adler forced a faint smile and left with the file. But the moment he turned, the smile vanished from his face.

His brow furrowed. From the moment he left Silas Grant’s office until he reached his own downstairs, his brow never relaxed.

Grave goods, heirlooms.

Executioner, cleaner.

Setting the trap, selling the lie.

The office door closed. He gazed at a mobile whiteboard standing by the window, several photos attached to it.

Silas Grant, Kian Keller, Hayes Hughes, Yates Donovan, Felix Sinclair, Ian Sinclair.

Simon Adler picked up a pen and wrote a few words on it.

After staring at it for a few seconds, he began drawing lines.

Recalling the conversation, the grave good was obviously Felix Sinclair.

’The executioner... The most inhuman one of the bunch would be the best fit for that role. That would have to be...’

A black line moved upward, stopping under Yates Donovan’s photo. The next second, it was erased and rerouted to Silas Grant in the corner.

’That’s right. He’d known Silas Grant for so many years; he knew this man best.’

When it came to being inhuman, no one could beat him.

’So, who’s the heirloom?’

For now, Simon Adler drew a line to Ian Sinclair.

’And the cleaner...’

’People often talk about the "cleaner," a type of fish that cleans up leftover food and algae in a tank, keeping the water clear.’

’A fish?’

’Yates Donovan?’

Simon knocked and entered. Simon Adler snapped out of his daze and looked over.

"Boss, I put the things you wanted on the table. Can I take the afternoon off? I’ve been feeling really unwell lately, I need to see a traditional Chinese medicine doctor..."

By the coffee table, Simon set the items down, but as he stood up, his hand accidentally knocked over a glass.

The glass hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

Simon quickly apologized. "I’ll call housekeeping to come over!"

Two minutes later, a janitor was kneeling on the floor, meticulously cleaning up the shards from the carpet, including the pieces that had flown under the sofa.

"Boss?" Simon had no idea what Simon Adler was staring at.

Simon Adler averted his gaze and looked at him. "Do you know what a ’cleaner’ is?"

"Sure. It’s a fish."

"Besides a fish?"

"Besides a fish... well, it’s also used as a metaphor for janitors, and... oh, crime scene cleanup specialists."

Simon Adler’s eyes lifted. He turned to look at the photos behind him.

’Some people do the evil deeds, others clean up the mess.’

’Perhaps this pair of cousins worked together more seamlessly.’

’The cleaner—Hayes Hughes.’

’Then who set the trap? Yates Donovan?’

’If that’s the case, the one selling the lie is Felix Sinclair.’

Simon leaned in curiously. Looking at the tangled mass of black lines on the board, he sucked in a breath. "What are you doing? Playing a game of connect the dots?"

"Nothing." Simon Adler tossed the pen to him. "Just bored, doodling randomly."

As he stepped away, Simon leaned back to take in the entire "masterpiece."

"These gentlemen are..."

"Someone’s harem."

Simon’s eyes widened in surprise as he carefully read the small words next to each photo.

Silas Grant—Suitor

Hayes Hughes—Second Brother

Kian Keller—Ex

Yates Donovan—Ex-fiancé

Felix Sinclair—Current Fiancé

Ian Sinclair—First Love

"Hiss." Simon sucked in a sharp breath. "Your summary is quite... on point."

"But you should be on here, too."

"Is there a role left for me?" Simon Adler asked with his back to him, lifting a glass of water to drink.

"Of course." Simon picked up the pen, wrote his name on the board, and then silently added a descriptor: "Simon Adler—Simp."

Simon Adler: "..."

He looked at the board by the window, his gaze falling on his own name, which now seemed somewhat unfamiliar.

"They each have their own roles. It would be redundant for me to show up. I’m not joining this circus."

Simon didn’t see it that way. "But your role is the most crucial one."

"Right, the simp," Simon Adler said, not bothering to engage with him.

Simon said with a laugh, "Hey, no, no! Only if you join in can they all unite."

"..."

「 」

The holiday came to an end, and Mia Grant moved back into her dorm early.

She still wasn’t used to living in such a large house by herself; the dorm room felt safer.

Before the semester officially began, Hayes Hughes took time off specifically to help her move her things and clean the dorm.

Having been unoccupied for the entire break, the dorm room was already covered in a layer of dust.

Her roommates weren’t local, so they wouldn’t arrive for another two days.

"Let me."

Hayes Hughes put down his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and took the rag from her hand to wipe the desk.

Mia watched him, unconvinced. "Maybe I should..."

"When I was living abroad, I was always on my own. I’m quite handy with these chores. Probably more skilled than you."

Mia squatted beside him and softly retorted, "I wouldn’t be so sure about that."

Hayes laughed. "Is that so?"

"Yup." Mia propped her chin on her hands and watched him work. His fair fingers gliding across the desk were a delightful sight. As expected of a doctor, his meticulous nature had him tackling chores with the same seriousness as suturing a wound, not even missing the table legs or crevices.

"I know how to do a lot of things."

"More than you know."

Hayes Hughes nodded. "You won’t have a chance to see it in the future."

Mia tilted her head, looking at him in confusion.

"Leave it to me from now on. You can teach me what I don’t know, then just give me orders, and I’ll do it."

Hayes Hughes rinsed the rag and continued, "I’m a pretty fast learner. I don’t think I’ll give Professor Grant too much of a headache."

Mia was taken aback for a moment, then broke into a smile.

"Okay."

’If there’s still a chance.’

’It’s just a shame...’

Mia stood up. "I’ll go change the water."

By the time the two of them finished, the sky had already grown dark.

Hayes Hughes took her home and, without a hint of it being a bother, cooked her a full table of food.

"Aren’t you tired?"

Mia asked curiously, looking at the dishes on the table.

"It’s more relaxing than performing surgery." Hayes Hughes beckoned to her from the kitchen. "Come wash your hands."

"Oh." She rolled up her sleeves and trotted over.

Hayes Hughes leaned to one side, his expression natural as he took her hand and placed it under the stream of water.

Mia froze slightly. The water temperature was perfect, not too cold and not too hot.

But for some reason, the skin his fingertips brushed against felt as if it had been scalded, and even her heart felt warm.