Chapter 162 Neither of the Couple is a Good Thing

Half-lying on the bed, feeling fragile, Grace Lane knew without guessing what had just happened.

Nora Hart lay on the bed, with blood on the soles of her feet. The wound was not serious; she must have been lifted up shortly after stepping on something.

Grace Lane noticed that Andrew Locke's face was off; unable to speak recklessly, she squatted by the bed and treated Nora's leg wound, and then noticed the tear streaks on her delicate makeup.

Her white dress seemed barely able to hold on; the train of the dress was torn off, leaving only a section hanging under her buttocks, both luxurious and lewd.

"Okay."

"On duty?" She stopped, and Andrew Locke then entered the bedroom, lighting a cigarette.

Grace Lane looked sideways, the ashtray in the living room was almost full.

"Yeah, the old man said you should smoke less."

Andrew Locke, never one to be controlled by anyone, hummed in acknowledgment, neither agreeing nor disagreeing: "Ask the driver to take you home."