The Real Heiress Rules the World (Sloane Rivers) novel Chapter 403

Chapter 403 Nothing Says Hello Like a Gun

Lucas caught onto the key point immediately. “Who’s in charge of the investigation?”

“The Interpol Special Task Force; the team leader’s name is Charlie,” Jaime said in a low voice. “The guy’s got deep connections–rumor has it he’s tied to several of Mirevia’s most powerful families.”

Sloane’s fingers clenched so tightly that her teacup spilled over. Jessica… Charlie… this can’t be a coincidence.

“What’s the Oliver family’s situation now?” Lucas asked, his tone grave.

“Mr. Jeffrey is holding things down at headquarters, but he’s getting old,” Jaime said with a frown. “Though I did hear the second son, Shawn, arranged to meet a few investors tonight at a cafe.”

Lucas and Sloane exchanged a look and instantly reached an unspoken agreement.

Lucas turned back to Jaime. “Thanks for the help today; dinner’s on me next time.”

Jaime wasn’t so easily dismissed. Leaning back, he arched a brow. “You two planning to ditch me and go see Shawn on your own?”

Lucas smiled. “You said it yourself—the Oliver family’s a mess right now. I don’t want to drag you into it.”

“Nonsense!” Jaime smacked the table hard enough to make nearby guests turn and stare. Lowering his voice, he ground out, “Back at Dombovia University, how many times did you cover for me? And now you’re treating me like an outsider?”

Sloane couldn’t help but laugh softly. Lucas rubbed the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “Fine. But this really could get dangerous.”

“Save it.” Jaime pulled out his phone. “Shawn’s meeting the investors at Tranquil House tonight. I know the place well. But…” His expression darkened. “Word is, someone’s been targeting the Oliver family lately–so stay sharp.”

Lucas’s gaze hardened. “What time’s the meeting?”

“Eight o’clock.” Jaime glanced at his watch. “We’ve got an hour. But we should scout the place first–just in case.”

The three of them quickly paid and left. The streets of Chinatown were glowing with lanterns,

festive on the surface yet hiding something uneasy beneath.

Tranquil House sat at the end of a quiet alley, an exclusive members–only café. Jaime flashed his membership card and led them inside without issue.

“Shawn usually books the third–floor suite-‘Serene Pavilion,“” Jaime murmured. “Let’s wait on the second floor first.”

They had just settled into a private room when Sloane suddenly pressed a hand over Lucas’s. “Something’s wrong; it’s too quiet.”

Lucas caught on instantly. He signaled Jaime to stay put, then took Sloane by the hand and pretended they were heading to the restroom. The moment they reached the third–floor corner, a dull thud echoed–followed by the shattering crash of glass.

They exchanged a glance; Lucas kicked open the door to Serene Pavilion. Inside, a young man in gold–rimmed glasses was being pinned to the table by three men in black–one of them holding a syringe poised to strike.

“Stop!” Lucas grabbed a porcelain vase by the door and hurled it across the room.

The man dodged swiftly; Sloane seized the opening and flicked three needles in rapid succession. “Ah!” Two of the attackers screamed, clutching their arms as they staggered back.

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