Chapter 195: Ambush

"Where did you get this? It doesn't look fake." Cindy Clive studied the notebook in her hands, noting the yellowed, brittle paper. Though not an expert in appraising antiques, she knew paper didn't degrade to this state without decades—or even centuries—of aging. Her curiosity was piqued.

"Ah, it's nothing to fuss over. Don't worry about it!" Jiang Hai dismissed her question with a laugh. He wasn't about to explain the origin of the notebook, nor did he intend to involve others in the matter. Instead, he quickly changed the subject. "So, how's school?"

Cindy seemed to either take the hint or decide to let it go, transitioning into a conversation about her work. Although Cindy was a teacher and Jiang Hai wasn't exactly an academic type, the two still found common ground for discussion.

Jiang Hai was a passionate foodie, while Cindy came from a family of French chefs. Their mutual love for food often filled their conversations, ensuring they were never dull. Beyond culinary topics, they now had another shared interest: the education of Darlene and Marian.

Before they knew it, dinner stretched into the late evening, lasting until nearly 10 p.m. Cindy's sister called to remind her it was time to head home, prompting Jiang Hai to glance at the time and stand.

"Let me take you home," he offered with a smile. "It's late, and you don't have a car. It's not safe to go back alone."

Jiang Hai briefly considered asking her to stay but quickly dismissed the idea. Not that he had any ulterior motives—well, unless Cindy took the initiative, in which case... he'd probably agree. But even thinking that felt unbecoming for a man like him.

In any case, he knew Cindy wouldn't stay. Even if he asked, she'd still insist on going home.

"Alright," Cindy agreed without hesitation. It wasn't the first time he'd offered her a ride, so she saw no reason to refuse. She waited while Jiang Hai grabbed his coat, and the two headed to the parking lot. Soon, they were in his F650 pickup truck, driving toward Winthrop.

From the second-floor window of Jiang Hai's manor, Darlene and Marian watched the truck's taillights fade into the distance. They exchanged a glance.

"What do you think—should Aunt Cindy be our mom?" Marian gestured playfully to her sister.

"If that could happen, it'd definitely be a blessing for Nagging Jiang," Darlene signed back with a smirk. She'd secretly given Jiang Hai the nickname because of his occasionally overly cautious nature.

Behind Jiang Hai's back, the two girls didn't fully see him as a father figure yet. But they did appreciate how much he cared for them. Marian smiled mischievously. "Then let's hope our dad tries his best!"

She flopped onto her bed, staring happily at the Winnie the Pooh lampshade Jiang Hai had installed just for them. Living here felt like a dream, one she'd never imagined possible. Seeing her sister so content, Darlene smiled too. It made her happy to see Marian so at ease.

Meanwhile, Jiang Hai and Cindy were in the truck, chatting about a new dish Cindy had recently learned: veal stewed in white sauce. It was a classic French recipe, similar to beef stew with red wine—though in this case, the wine was minimal, leaving the sauce white.

Though Jiang Hai wasn't particularly skilled in cooking, he was always eager to try new recipes. Using the high-quality beef brisket or shank from his own ranch for such a dish seemed like an excellent idea. The two continued talking about food as they drove toward Winthrop.

However, neither of them noticed a motorcycle parked in the shadows near the manor's entrance. As Jiang Hai's truck pulled away, the motorcycle's engine roared to life, following them at a distance. The rider made a quick phone call. In Boston, several motorcycles and cars revved up in response, departing a southern district of the city. Judging by their leather jackets, steel pipes, and baseball bats, it was clear these were not upstanding citizens.

By the time Jiang Hai dropped Cindy off at her home, the gang was already en route to Winthrop. Jiang Hai parked in front of her building, and on the second floor, a face resembling Cindy's appeared in the window.

"Hey! You're still driving my sister home this late? Are you an idiot?" The voice from above startled Jiang Hai. A trace of embarrassment flickered across his face.

"Hey, Kama! Is your butt itching again?" Cindy yelled at her younger sister before turning to Jiang Hai with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about her. You've met her before, at the Ocean Temple."

Jiang Hai nodded, remembering the encounter. He waved awkwardly at Kama Clive, who, in return, stuck out her tongue and disappeared from view. Cindy couldn't help but chuckle at her sister's antics.

"Thanks for the ride. I have class tomorrow, but I'll come by the day after to teach Darlene and Marian. Drive safely; it's late," Cindy said warmly.

Jiang Hai nodded and waited until she entered the building before heading back to his truck. As he started the engine and drove off, Kama leaned out the window again.

"You still haven't made a move on him?" she teased her sister, smirking.

"What nonsense are you talking about? It's not like that," Cindy protested, her cheeks flushing. Whether from embarrassment or the cold, she didn't know. She stubbornly refused to acknowledge anything more than a professional relationship. "Go to bed, brat," she added, retreating to her room.

Kama, however, wasn't buying it. "Keep pretending! If Jiang Hai wasn't interested, why would he keep giving you expensive beef every time you visit? That stuff's worth a fortune! And if you weren't interested, why would you keep accepting it?"

Cindy ignored her sister's teasing and went to bed, trying not to think too much about what Jiang Hai meant to her—or what she might mean to him.

Meanwhile, Jiang Hai drove through the quiet countryside, listening to the radio. His manor was located in a secluded area, a necessity given its size. The desolation didn't bother him; he wasn't one to believe in ghosts or supernatural dangers.

But as the saying goes, "The road is long, and trouble often waits in the dark."

As Jiang Hai drove, a motorcycle suddenly appeared in his lane, speeding directly toward him. U.S. highways, though narrow in some older areas like Boston, were usually well-marked and orderly. For someone to drive against traffic on a four-lane road was either reckless or intentional.

"What's this guy doing?" Jiang Hai muttered, flashing his high beams and preparing to switch lanes. But just as he moved, the motorcycle swerved and crashed. The rider fell to the ground, and the bike skidded straight toward Jiang Hai's truck.

(To be continued...)