Benson
Benson 130

Chapter 130 The Cold Night in Las Vegas

The wheelchair slid towards the middle of the road, with cars continuously passing by.

Drivers swerved abruptly to avoid Mary, resulting in the

tires and the urgent sound of brakes

eeching of

Bright headlights nearly blinded Mary, her heart pounding in her throat, making it hard to breathe.

She clumsily tried to move the wheelchair, but amidst the traffic, she dared not act rashly.

Cars sped by, their blinding lights causing her dizziness and fear.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably, sweat trickling down her forehead, and her heart raced as if it would leap out of her chest.

Just when Mary was on the verge of despair, George hurried over.

His face was ashen, eyes filled with shock and anger.

He quickly stopped several cars, standing in front of Mary, and then rushed to the middle of the road to push her back to safety.

Once Mary was back on the sidewalk, she was too terrified to react, sitting there in a daze, unable to speak.

Her hands tightly gripped the wheelchair’s armrests, her body trembling, eyes vacant and terrified.

Benson stood by the roadside, a cigarette burning in his hand, unable to hide the malevolence and coldness emanating from him.

His eyes were icy, gazing at Mary as if she were a meaningless. object, his inner loathing and anger unmasked.

George quickly walked to Benson’s side, his face grim, his voice low

and urgent, “Boss, have you lost your mind?”

Benson’s gaze remained unmoved, till coldly fixed on Mary.

He slowly throw the cigarette to the ground, lightly crushing it with his toe, and walked away without looking back.

George watched Benson’s retreating figure, his heart filled with complex emotions.

He had never seen Benson so out of control and cruel. The usually composed and restrained Mr. Benson was heartlessly.

w acting so madly and

The cold wind in Las Vegas bit into Mary’s back, soaked with cold.

sweat.

Her face was pale as paper, her eyes filled with fear and helplessness.

“Boss, are you crazy?” George questioned Benson again, his voice. tinged with undisguised shock and confusion.

Benson slowly walked back to Yvonne’s house, his steps unhurried, eyes fixed on his phone screen.

Even in the quiet dusk, the coldness and indifference he exuded were like a chilling wind.

The streetlights cast long shadows of Benson, clearly outlined on the

hard concrete.

His face looked even sterner in the faint light, like a sculpture, devoid

of warmth.

George felt uneasy, just as he was about to speak, his phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts.

He took out his phone, seeing several photos just delivered–images of Mary in the middle of the busy road.

Her expression was panicked and bewildered, surrounded by passing

Chuppér 1301 The Cold Night in Las Vegas

cars and hurried pedestrians.

George looked at these photos, a mix of feelings rising within him. There was pity, but also helplessness.

Before Benson turned around, his deep, indifferent voice reached George’s ears, “Get it done.” The tone carried an irresistible authority.

“To make her leave the industry? And… should we still look for that person?” George hesitated, looking up at Benson, his es full of inquiry.

Benson turned back, a flash of complex emotion in his eyes.

He pondered for a while, seemingly making a difficult decision.

His voice was calm but filled with helplessness and resolve, “We both know Mary actually doesn’t know who that person is…” His tone revealed deep powerlessness and fatigue.

“The previous clues are all gone,” Benson’s eyes turned cold.

“Because there was no other way, I allowed her to act foolishly again. and again. She knows the rules but keeps overstepping, pretending to be ignorant and fearless. Such a person without self–control will only bring us trouble.”

Yvonne didn’t expect Benson to return so soon.

The night had spread across the entire city.

The yellow light from the streetlamps shone through the half–open window, casting mottled shadows into the simple room.

She sat by the bed, quietly watching her mother’s peaceful face, her own expression showing obvious fatigue and sadness.

Her mother hadn’t woken up yet, and she herself was exhausted, having no energy to face anyone, especially Benson.

Benson stood at the door of Hannah’s room, his tall figure almost

filling the doorframe.

He watched her for a long time, a complex emotion flashing in his

eyes.

Was it sadness? Guilt? Or something else, even he couldn’t say.

Yvonne felt his gaze and looked up, their eyes meeting. Yvonne’s eyes were red, filled with a vulnerability slidn’t want to be seen.

Benson was silent for a while, as if wanting to say something but ultimately turned and left, his steps heavy, his back lonely and desolate.

Susan stood in the hallway, witnessing it all.

As the housemaid, she was used to the family’s ups and downs, but even she felt at a loss in this situation.

She didn’t know how to handle it and didn’t dare to speak.

Susan feared that one wrong word might anger him and cause more trouble.

Then Benson’s voice broke the silence, “Where is her room?”

Though his tone was calm, it carried an undeniable force.

Susan hesitated, opening her mouth but unsure how to respond.

Just as she struggled internally, unsure of what to do, Bella’s voice suddenly rang out.

Bella, straightforward and unafraid of authority.

“Mr. Benson, you’ve been married for three years, don’t you know where your wife’s room is?”

Bella’s tone was full of mockery and disdain, as if ridiculing Benson’s ignorance or indifference.

Benson turned, his gaze sharp as an arrow aimed at Bella, his eyes

cold.

“You’d better not make me unhappy…” His voice was low but carried an undeniable threat.

Bella didn’t fear him, instead, she snorted coldly, standing her ground.

“Benson, are you threatening me? On what grounds? Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

Her voice was filled with anger and disdain, clearly contemptuous of

Benson’s attitude and actions.

Benson’s gaze grew colder, but he quickly regained his composure.

He spoke slowly, almost accusatory, “Bella, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so quick with the words. After all, I have a lot of resources. You became popular quickly and can help her. Isn’t having real strength better than anything else?”

Bella was momentarily speechless, opening her mouth, considering

his words.

Despite her dislike for Benson, his words struck a chord with her.

Indeed, true strength provides support, not empty scolding or

resistance.

Finally, Susan, seeing the situation, felt that no matter what, Benson was Yvonne’s husband. As a maid, she had no right to drive him away.

She cautiously informed him that Yvonne’s room was on the second

floor.

Then, she quietly told Yvonne.

The night slowly passed amidst this turmoil, each person harboring their own thoughts and emotions, waiting in silence for the dawn.

Yvonne had no time to deal with Benson, just hoping her mother would wake up soon.

Around ten o’clock, Hannah finally woke up, silently shedding tears upon seeing Yvonne.

Her eyes were filled with endless sorrow and lplessness, tears rolling down like broken pearls.

Yvonne gently wiped her mother’s tears, softly comforting, “Why are you crying? Let me show you something.”