The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin)

Chapter 811 The Last Meal

After a shower at the bureau, Malcolm returned to the car, changed his clothes and worked out his Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

story.

If Lyra asked, he would say he was emotional and quarrel with Frank. So his coat got dirty and he had

to change clothes.

The thought of going back can to hold his wife to rest, all his haze was swept away.

The clock on the wall ran to two o'clock, and the laboratory ward was quiet enough to hear the two

children breathing.

Lyra sat worriedly on the edge of the bed, with her fingers sliding over the phone.

He was not back yet. Was Frank's matter tricky?

Or was Frank up to something?

After some hesitation, Lyra put down her cell phone and did not call Malcolm's number, fearing it would

delay his work.

Tossing and turning in bed for a while, she went out to get some fresh air, and as soon as she opened

the door, she saw Malcolm's figure and his smiling face.

"Where are you going?"

Seeing him in his new clothes, Lyra looked up and down and asked suspiciously, "What did you do?"

He gave his prearranged story, and Lyra didn't doubt it any more. She pulled him into the room, and the

two of them lay on a cot and hugged to each other.

The next morning.

Molly jumped between the two of them and held her face in her hands. She blinked her big eyes. Lyra's

eyes were lazy and sleepy as she held her baby daughter in her arms.

Malcolm opened his eyes when he felt a little girl come in between them.

"Momo."

Hearing the disgruntled voice above her head, Molly immediately put on an aggrieved look. She put her

arms around Lyra's neck and complained, "Mommy, Daddy is being mean to me. You have to discipline

your husband."

Amused by her words, Lyra got up and carried Molly to Spencer's bed.

The three of them were covered in a quilt, and Malcolm was sadly left alone.

Lyra tucked Spencer in and asked, "How are you feeling? Are you feeling well?"

Spencer shook his head. "Mommy, I'm not sick. Are you and Daddy going to work today?"

Seeing the hope in a child's eyes, Lyra could probably guess what he wanted to do.

"Spencer, what do you want to do today?"

"I want you and Daddy to stay with me," Spencer murmured as she huddled in Lyra's arms

In a dream last night, Spencer dreamed that Lyra and Malcolm had been taken away by a monster, and

the monster said that they wouldn't come back as long as he didn't behave himself.

The dream was very real. The monster opened a big mouth to eat their family.

Lyra thought Spencer wanted her to go out with him, but he just wanted to stay with them.

Thinking about what had happened, she understood Spencer's fear. She tightened her arms and

agreed, "Spencer, you want us to stay with you, so we'll stay with you and Momo, okay?"

Her son had always been strong, never showing any fear or fright. This time he seemed to be really

fearful.

Malcolm, hearing what Spencer said, realized that he had been too busy to spend time with them. He

rolled out of bed and held both his children in his arms.

"No one can bully you while I'm here."

So by Daddy and Mommy in the arms, Spencer felt extremely satisfied. His short hair stuck to his

mother, rubbing.

Molly put her arms around Lyra's neck and said, "Mommy, will you stay with me and my brother?"

Although she was still a child, she knew a lot of things. Recently, her father and mother had been

dealing with the bad uncle, and she knew it.

"Okay, Daddy and Mommy will definitely not let any bad guys bully you. It's still early now. Go back to

sleep. When you wake up, Daddy and Mommy will send you to kindergarten together."

Molly had been in the lab all this time because of Frank, and unlike Spencer, she was going to

kindergarten to live a normal life.

"Yes!"

children's sleep was always excellent. When they found peace of mind, they slept soundly.

Buzz--

Malcolm's phone vibrated. It was Chad.

In order not to wake the two children, Malcolm had to go outside quietly.

"What results?"

When Chad called, it was just a new development in Frank's case.

It went without saying that he knew that Frank had committed such a heinous crime that there would be

no outcome other than the death penalty.

"Bro, it's the death penalty. After the Bureau of Justice reviews the case, the execution will take place in

seven days. Frank will finally get his punishment."

After a moment of silence, Malcolm said, "Well, what else does he want?"

After all, Frank was also his closest partner, best friend, if not misguided, would not end up like this. He

was a poor man.

Chad responded, then added, "Bro, Frank says he wants to see you one last time, and... wants wine."

"Got it."

After hanging up the phone, Malcolm entered the room, whispered something in Lyra's ear, picked up

his coat, and walked out. He also had something to say to Frank.

Driving up to the bureau, Malcolm grabbed two bottles of good wine and had the canteen prepare

some good food.

This should be the last time he and Frank had dinner together in years.

The officer from the bureau saw Malcolm coming and said, "Hello, Mr. White."

"Uh-huh."

Because Frank was a convicted felon, he was kept in solitary confinement in a surveillance room where

he can be monitored at any time.

Malcolm took the private elevator to where Frank was being held. Frank sat in the corner, defeated and

unable to look back.

He was wearing the same shirt, which had been in the rain that day, stained with dirt and blood. He had

a bandage on his left leg. Malcolm had shot him.

Frank heard the voice and looked up slowly. His eyes were gray.

"There you are."

His voice was hoarse, and his lips were dry and cracked and a little gray.

Opening the door, Malcolm sat directly across from him, placing his hand slowly on the table.

Frank looked at him in surprise, not understanding what Malcolm meant.

Malcolm poured a glass of wine for each of them and raised his glass to Frank who was in the corner.

"I thought you wanted a drink."

"Aren't you afraid that I'll kill you? I've killed so many people. You can be killed by me."

As Frank spoke, he limped to the table, grabbed his glass, and tilted his head.

High-density liquor was spicy, burning throat, but he had a very willful smile, "Good wine!"

Malcolm downed his drink.

"You won't kill me. Even if you really thought that I killed April, you never thought of killing me. I know

that no matter how dehumanized you are, you still miss the time when you fought with me."

"You want me dead, and you're afraid I'm really dead. I'm the only one who understands your struggle."

For Frank, who lived alone and whose belief in revenge had kept him alive, Malcolm was complicated.

Faced with Malcolm's affirmation, Frank sneered, but did not refute, and continued to drink.

Perhaps knowing that his days were numbered, Frank talked a lot with Malcolm, drank a lot of wine,

and the two of them went back to the days when they were on a mission together.

Frank was a little drunk, lying on the table. Looking at the person sitting in front of him, he just felt a

little fuzzy.

"Malcolm, speaking of which... I envy you. You've got everything. You've got a wife. You've got kids,

and you've got a place in the world where people look up to you, but I. . ."

He smiled wryly and, without waiting for Malcolm to reply, slammed his hand on the table and sat up,

glaring viciously at Malcolm.

"Don't think I'm gonna let you get away with this. Malcolm, you owe me a life. Even if I die, I'm gonna

make you pay for it. You're gonna pay for April..."

Malcolm didn't know whether to laugh or cry.