The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 146

—He had only learned of her pain and suffering through someone else.

If Larry hadn't tried to warn Ken, and if Ken hadn't realized something was off, he would have never known she was hurting.

If one day she stopped complaining to him, did that mean she had grown up?

He didn't know.

His grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "It means I'm useless."

She sat across his lap, entrusting her entire weight to him. Hearing his words, Celia smiled through her tears and unceremoniously wiped her face against his expensive vest.

"Uncle Alistair, what did you do to him?"

He knew she meant Larry.

"I sent him to the police. The company has security footage, and with the recordings of those call logs, he's not getting out."

He stated it plainly, as if discussing the weather.

His hand continued its rhythmic, soothing pats against her back—a silent comfort.

Looking at him with mild skepticism, she pressed, "Just the police? You didn't hit him, did you?"

His fingers paused.

His thumb brushed against the ridge of her spine.

Soft, delicate little bones, each one slightly pronounced beneath his touch.

"No," he looked at her and said softly. "With my position, I can't exact vigilante justice."

As a powerful figure in political and business circles, these were unspoken boundaries.

No matter how furious he was, a man of his stature couldn't personally administer physical punishment.

Half-believing him, Celia didn't pry further, just giving an occasional sniffle.

For a while, neither spoke.

The only sound was the gentle rhythm of his hand patting her back.

Eventually, as if realizing their position, she scrambled up.

Quickly creating distance between herself and the man in the chair, she lowered her head. Her cheeks were flushed, the tips of her ears burning. "U-Uncle Alistair, it's getting late. You should go get some rest."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify