Chapter 275: “I’ve Fallen for You” (Part 2)
Alison asked, “What… what do you want?”
Pierre said, “Nothing much. I’d like to tag along with you to the police station. I’ve never been before.”
Alison froze.
“Are you scared? Actually, it’s pretty nice inside. Free room and board.”
“I have to pick someone up at the airport tomorrow. I can’t play along with you,” she blurted out.
“Who are you picking up? Someone that important?” He raised an eyebrow.
“My husband.”
“Your husband’s arriving tomorrow?” He still gripped her wrist.
“Yes, he’s arriving tomorrow, so I need to pick him up.”
“Interesting. Now I understand why you didn’t call. Was it because his phone was turned off on the plane?”
“Yes.” Her face turned pale as the wail of police sirens echoed.
He finally released her wrist, smiling, “This isn’t my fault. You didn’t tell me that. Look, the cops are here. Let’s go to the station together. We can have dinner there.”
“Pierre, why won’t you leave me alone?” she shouted.
“I just love watching you write in the snow. It’s beautiful.” He curved his lips upward.
“That’s your obsession, not mine.”
The police car pulled up, and several officers approached them.
He smiled and turned to face the officers. “You’re too late. We’ve already fought. Take us away now.”
“Mr. Bruce, are the two of you together?” the officer asked respectfully, glancing at Pierre.
“Yes, take her too. Both of us. I want to taste prison food.”
The officer walked toward Alison.
Alison blurted out, “Pierre, if I agree to have dinner with you, does that mean we won’t have to go to the police station?”
Pierre smirked, “Yes.”
“Fine. Let’s go to dinner.”
Pierre shot the officers a casual glance before declaring,
“Officers, misunderstanding—she’s my girlfriend. She’s mad I skipped dinner, that’s all. Have a good night.”
With that, he draped his arm around Alison’s shoulder and steered her away.
The officers didn’t stop them, nor did they protest Pierre’s mockery of their authority.
Alison was astonished. She realized Pierre’s true identity had to be far more complicated than she’d assumed.
Alison was forcibly dragged away by Pierre and completely forgot to return Judy’s call.
Only after a few steps did she hear Judy shouting from the phone, “Alison, what’s going on?”
Pierre heard it. He snatched her phone, saying, “She’s fine. She’s just going out to dinner with me. Bye.”
Alison’s face flushed crimson, yet she could do nothing.
Pierre led her out of the pedestrian street.
Ahead, a Hummer was parked.
The car was ostentatious, yet Pierre had no bodyguards—something that only deepened Alison’s confusion about who he really was.
He tapped the key fob; the Hummer’s locks chirped and the doors popped open.
“Hey, get in.”
“Hey, I have a name. Don’t call me that.”
“You haven’t told me one. I can only call you hey,” Pierre replied.
Alison shot him a withering look. “Alison Fairchild.”
“Alison… Fairchild…” Pierre repeated softly, tasting the syllables as he walked to the driver’s side.
Suddenly, he paused and glanced back at her.
Then he slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and asked,
“That’s really your name—Alison?”
“Yes.”