You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

Chapter 106 Actually, I'm a little tired too.

After completely leaving the task of dealing with tech elites and anxious millionaires to Sterling, Lyon, like an employee who had just clocked out, withdrew from the center of the crowd without any psychological burden.

He loosened his slightly tight tie, picked up a half-empty glass of champagne, and strolled back to a corner of the banquet hall.

As soon as he got back, he raised an eyebrow.

Carlos, that sly fellow, has disappeared without a trace.

Lyon glanced around and was surprised to find that this guy was mixed in with a group of rich second-generation young men who looked quite young.

Carlos, with a cigar between his fingers and a bright purple shirt, stood out in the crowd. He told a joke that made the usually arrogant rich kids laugh heartily, and some even patted him on the shoulder affectionately, as if they were old friends.

"This kid—he's definitely a talent."

Leon shook his head and ignored him.

Leon turned his gaze away and looked towards the other side of the corner.

Mia was leaning against a marble pillar by herself.

She actually looks beautiful tonight.

A deep red backless evening gown perfectly accentuated her curves, and her usually messy short hair looked meticulously styled.

But this stunning aura was completely ruined by the expression on her face.

At this moment, she was rolling her eyes with a bored expression, exuding a decadent aura of "So boring, I want to go home, these people are all idiots".

The makeup, which should have made her look noble and aloof, was a complete waste of her talent when paired with her lifeless appearance.

"Oh, isn't this our beautiful lady?"

Leon walked over and stood beside her, leaning against the pillar as well, and said jokingly, "You look so bitter and resentful, anyone who didn't know better would think you're here for a funeral."

"You've already put on makeup, at least give me a smile! You look like a salted fish in an evening gown."

Mia turned her head, glanced at Leon from head to toe, and without even changing her posture, rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Boss, save your breath."

She took a sip of champagne and said calmly, "I can't laugh. I feel like my heels are being rubbed raw by these damn high heels."

"I originally thought I could come here to have a good meal tonight, but I'm so bored here that I want to write my resignation letter on the spot."

"All I want to do right now is go home, change into my pajamas, and lie in bed watching TV shows. This kind of fancy setting is really not suitable for someone like me who just wants to relax and have some peace and quiet."

With that, she straightened up and sighed, "Fine, I'm not going to be a decorative vase here anymore."

"I just saw a few wealthy women over there gossiping. Judging from their demeanor, they must be the wives of directors of some listed company."

"I'll go over there and see if there's any gossip about insurance fraud or infidelity. We might need it someday."

"return."

Leon didn't give her a chance to escape. He reached out and grabbed her bare arm, pulling her back with a little force.

"If you don't want to socialize, then don't go."

Leon pressed her back against the pillar, then turned to the side, blocking most of the banquet hall's view and enclosing her in a relatively private little space.

"What's wrong?"

Mia was forced to stop and looked up at Lyon: "Is Director Sterling finally done with his work? Finally remembered his neglected little follower?"

"Stop pretending, you know I'm just acting with her."

Lyon looked down at her, his gaze lingering unabashedly on the curves of her red dress: "And, I have to tell you the truth."

"Although your half-dead expression is really annoying, this outfit is definitely worth wearing."

"If it weren't for this occasion, I would have taken you away right now."

Mia was taken aback.

A slight crack appeared in the "emotionless" mask on her face, and a faint blush rose on her cheeks, but she still refused to back down.

"cut----"

Mia turned her head to look at the wine glass in her hand and muttered softly, "At least you have some taste."

"Although I know I'm definitely not the main character tonight, the limelight will all go to that she-devil—"

"But after all, this is the first time I've come to this kind of event with you, I can't let you down, can I?"

As she finished speaking, her voice trailed off, causing a slight tremor in Leon's heart.

"I'm not ashamed."

Leon raised his glass and gently touched Mia's glass, making a crisp "tinkling" sound.

"In my eyes, all the wealthy ladies in this hall tonight combined aren't as pretty as your leg."

"Don't give me that. You think you can trick me into working for you?"

Although Mia said that, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up wildly, and her dead fish eyes finally had a bit of light.

She turned to look at Lyon, raised her glass: "To the overtime pay."

"Respectfully your overtime pay."

As the dinner progressed into its second half, the suffocating social pleasantries finally came to an end.

The jazz music in the hall softened, and the tech elites who had initially looked anxious, after receiving satisfactory answers, began to gather in small groups, holding their glasses, and chat about yachts and golf.

As for the ACU guys, they had already eaten and drunk their fill and were now gathered around a gambling table watching the excitement. Bulldozer was even chuckling to himself because he had won two rounds.

Lyon took another sip of champagne and patted Mia's waist: "Wait here for me for a while. Don't wander off or eavesdrop on those rich ladies."

"Okay, go ahead and do your big business." Mia waved her hand lazily and turned to stare blankly at the macarons on the dessert table.

Lyon pushed through the crowd and opened the floor-to-ceiling glass doors leading to the terrace.

A damp, cold night wind, carrying the unique humidity of Seattle, swept over us, instantly dispelling the warmth in the banquet hall.

Victoria Sterling was standing alone by the railing on the terrace.

She held a half-empty glass of red wine in her hand, but didn't drink it; she just quietly watched the bustling traffic below.

From this angle, her back view appears somewhat frail, and the evening gown offers little warmth in the sub-zero outdoor air.

"What? Instead of enjoying the cheers of her subjects after such a resounding victory, the Queen is hiding here in the cold wind?"

Leon walked up to her, placed his hands on the railing, and casually made a joke.

"Listening to too much cheering will cause tinnitus."

Sterling didn't turn around, nor was he surprised by Lyon's sudden appearance.

She simply swirled the wine glass in her hand, looking at the wine-red liquid clinging to the glass.

"What did George say to you?"

She suddenly spoke, her voice slightly muffled by the cold wind.

Leon raised an eyebrow and turned to look at her. "I thought that was a part of the interview you arranged. What? You didn't know?"

"I didn't let him say anything."

Sterling sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "But I can probably guess."

"It's nothing but the same old clichés. They're putting you on the spot, testing you, asking if you'll betray them, or hinting at the consequences of disloyalty."

"More or less." Leon shrugged. "The old man is quite energetic, and has a strong murderous aura."

"I knew it—"

Sterling frowned slightly and gently placed his glass on the marble railing.

Don't take his nonsense too seriously.

She turned around, leaned against the railing, and said wearily, "George—and the old folks my father left behind, their minds are still stuck in the last century."

"In their worldview, they still cling to that set of medieval feudal logic."

"Retainers, loyal warriors, absolute loyalty, blood for blood."

Sterling shook his head. "They have a natural hostility and distrust toward anyone they can't fully control, or anyone they're only working with based on mutual benefit."

"They don't understand, times have changed."

"We live in a contractual society, an era of exchanging interests. Who would die for so-called family honor? Everyone's after dollars and their future."

Lyon listened to these words and glanced thoughtfully at Sterling.

There's a hidden meaning in those words.

It seems that this branch director and her family's influence are not a monolithic entity.

"sound----"

Lyon tentatively asked, "You have quite a few disagreements with the old men in your family?"

Sterling glanced at him. "Don't test me."

She said softly, picking up her wine glass, "There are some family matters that you shouldn't know too much about; it won't do you any good."

"All you need to know is that here, in the Western District Police Station, I'm the one who calls the shots."

"As long as I don't give the go-ahead, old-fashioned guys like George can't touch you."

"clear."

Lyon smiled, wisely raised his hands in surrender, and did not pursue the topic any further.

Sterling looked at his nonchalant demeanor, the sharpness in his eyes slowly fading, replaced by a gentle, ambiguous look.

"A smart person."

She raised her glass and gently touched the glass in Lyon's hand.

"Salute to the New Era"

"Respect the benefits."

The crisp sound of glass clashing echoed in the night breeze.

Lyon tilted his head back, downed the champagne in his glass, and put it down.

"Alright, there's a little wildcat waiting for me over there, so I won't disturb your peace and quiet, Chief."

He pointed to Mia in the corner of the banquet hall, waved to Sterling, turned and walked back, his back view elegant and resolute, without a trace of lingering affection.

Sterling stood still, maintaining the same posture as before.

She watched Leon's departing figure, watching him walk through the crowd and head straight for the young policewoman in the red dress who looked impatient.

Sterling's lips parted slightly, and the hand that had been resting on the railing seemed to unconsciously rise an inch, as if he wanted to hold on or say something else.

For example, "Stay a little longer," or "Actually, I'm a little tired too."

But in the end, that hand fell limply to its side, gripping the cold wine glass tightly once more.

"Oh----"

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