Before Oliver's grandfather passed away, he left him a video message. In it, he acknowledged Oliver's anger and frustration over being sent away, and encouraged him to embrace his 'perverted ways' and produce many offspring to rule the empire. Oliver wrestled with his changed, colder nature after his ordeal, but ultimately resolved to prove he hasn't lost himself.
Soon, the vehicle entered the bustling cityscape. Oliver, observing the throngs of people and towering structures through the window, felt an unfamiliar sensation. Three months spent on a remote island had made the return to civilization feel quite jarring. A certain unease permeated the atmosphere, making him instinctively tense. Was it the cacophony of sounds, the sheer volume of people, or the relentless traffic? He couldn't pinpoint the cause. Nevertheless, Oliver felt as though he had been abruptly pulled back to reality from his island sojourn.
The overwhelming sensory input was starkly different from the island's natural tranquility. Here, he was assailed by blaring horns and the ceaseless murmur of daily life. His instincts screamed impending danger from every direction, heightening his vigilance. It seemed as though every individual, every passing car, and every element within his surroundings posed a potential threat.
Oliver recognized the absurdity of his feelings, recalling his previous comfort in urban environments. Now, however, intrusive thoughts of potential harm flooded his mind. He began to envision scenarios of sudden stabbings or lurking dangers within shadowy alleyways.
Any sudden noise or movement was enough to startle him. Closing his eyes, Oliver took a deep, deliberate breath through his nostrils, urging himself to regain composure. 'Relax,' he silently commanded. 'I'm just being paranoid. It's a natural reaction after everything I've endured. But these people pose no real threat. While I'm no super-soldier, I've been through a lot and gained valuable experience. So, stop panicking. No one is going to kill you. Get a grip.'
Gradually, Oliver managed to stabilize himself. His racing heart subsided, and his breathing normalized.
"Haaah... I should have rested before disembarking and coming here," he murmured, mostly to himself.
Before Oliver could further contemplate his mental state, the Rolls Royce glided to a halt before a building.
"We've arrived," the driver announced via the intercom.
"Thank you. Please wait discreetly at the side for me," Oliver replied, opening the left door and stepping out onto the pavement. He then closed the door behind him and proceeded toward the police station's entrance, flanked by two armed guards. This entrance drew considerable attention, with onlookers staring at the unusual sight. It was clear that this was no ordinary individual but someone of significant standing.
"Excuse me, sir. What is your business here?" A police officer approached Oliver near the entrance, scrutinizing him from head to toe. "May I assist you?"
"Yes, I'm here to see the chief," Oliver stated without hesitation. "Could you please escort me to her office?"
The officer's gaze narrowed as he assessed Oliver, whose tailored suit and the presence of armed escorts projected an air of authority. While gaining an audience with the chief was typically not a simple matter of asking, Oliver's demeanor suggested he was not someone to be casually dismissed. Deciding against immediate refusal, the officer opted to inform the chief of Oliver's arrival before granting access. "Very well... please wait inside while I ascertain the chief's availability. Is that agreeable to you?"
"Certainly," Oliver agreed as they entered the building. "But please be swift; my time is limited. Inform her that Oliver Ashford is here; I'm confident she will wish to meet me immediately."
The policeman nodded and proceeded ahead.
Oliver's wait was brief before the officer returned, accompanied by the chief of police.
"My apologies for the delay, Mr. Oliver," Lauren said cordially, stopping before him as her eyes briefly scanned his person. "I had anticipated your contact a week following the incident, but it appears you've been exceedingly occupied—meeting with me only now, after a three-month interval."
Oliver offered a slight smirk and gestured dismissively. "My apologies for the delay. Various matters arose, and I was out of the city for some time."
The chief responded with a nod and indicated her office. "Let us discuss this inside."
Oliver followed her, his gaze lingering on her swaying posterior, which appeared more ample than he recalled, and her exposed long legs, which he found enticing.
'Hmm... it seems my libido hasn't waned despite spending three months on that island,' he mused internally. 'No, if anything, it has intensified. I feel more vital than ever.'
"Please, have a seat," Lauren invited, gesturing towards a couch before taking a seat opposite him. "Now, what can I do for you?"
Oliver settled back onto the sofa, his gaze drifting towards her chest, which seemed poised to spill from her attire at any second. His eyes were fixed there, utterly mesmerized.
Lauren observed his stare, a finely sculpted eyebrow arching in slight amusement. Nevertheless, she remained silent, crossing her arms beneath her impressive bust. This gesture subtly lifted her breasts, causing them to swell even more prominently within her uniform.
Her movement drew Oliver's attention, and he promptly redirected his gaze upward, his eyes locking with her piercing stare. "I imagine you're curious about the reason for my unexpected visit today, Chief Lauren. I'm here to ascertain the identities of those who attacked me previously, and I'm convinced your department possesses that knowledge."
Lauren's lips pressed together. "Indeed, we do know... but might I inquire as to your intentions, Mr. Oliver? Do you plan to seek retribution against those who dared to assault you?"
