Chapter 40: The Queen of Flames Bar

The members of Investigation Group Five watched the news broadcast showing Roan emerging from the villa unscathed, carrying Sabina in his arms. Mona exhaled deeply, her face relaxing at last.
"I knew it; Roan definitely had a plan."
Mona felt a surge of joy in her heart, pleased that her faith in Roan had not been misplaced.
Her palm was slick with sweat, and she reached for a tissue, but upon seeing the number on her phone, her lips curled downward. Annoyed, she tossed the phone aside as if it were a poisonous mushroom.
August sat atop the desk, grinning widely at the televised scene, his molars exposed in delight.
The more he watched Roan, the more he saw himself in the man—not only were they both striking enough to make people scream, but they were clever and capable, too.
Hadn't Roan handled himself impeccably on camera, speaking carefully, attributing his actions to sound leadership? Hadn't Veronice's face turned crimson with excitement at that display?
Seated in her chair, Veronice watched Roan tell reporters to direct their questions to his superior at the press conference. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes practically spelling out one word: satisfaction!
Feeling a cool draft against her thigh, Veronice took a deep breath. Her color gradually returned to normal as she rose from her chair and turned coldly to August.
"In thirty minutes, I want to hold a press conference. Notify every reporter you can; the more, the better."
"Understood, Chief!"
August replied with a smile, then asked,
"Will Roan be attending? If so, he might be late—he can't make it back in thirty minutes."
"..."
Veronice paused, about to leave the office. Technically, Roan should attend, but forcing him might provoke his anger...
After a brief consideration, Veronice said, "Call Roan now. Ask if he wants to attend the press conference; if he does, let him come. If not, that's fine."
"...Alright."
August was a bit surprised—since when was Veronice so reasonable? Nevertheless, he pulled out his phone and dialed Roan.
"Can I skip it, Chief?"
Sitting in his SUV, watching the SWAT vehicles finally arrive, Roan sounded utterly unwilling.
"I've been running around all day, and now I just want to go home and sleep. I'm exhausted."
Although the story spanned from Chapter Fifteen to Chapter Forty, it covered only Roan's experiences from nine in the morning to midnight—just a single day.
"This..."
August's expression froze as Veronice, standing beside him and overhearing Roan's voice, nodded and replied coldly,
"Agent Roan, you've worked hard. Go home and rest. I permit you to come to work tomorrow afternoon."

August: "???"
Roan, delighted: "Thank you, Chief!"
After hanging up, Veronice ignored the look on August's face that seemed to say, "I wish I could start work late tomorrow too." She dragged her slightly trembling legs and headed to Group Five's restroom.
She was careful to remind August sternly,
"August, in thirty minutes I want every news media outlet in New York present in the downstairs conference room, understand?"
"Yeah."
August sighed, shifting his gaze from Veronice to the agents in the office area.
"Alright, everyone, get moving! Contact every media outlet in New York! Big or small, none are to be left out!"
The agents: "..."
Beside the forest cabin.
On the roadside, Darren and Sabina waited for their secretary's car, comforting each other and exchanging heartfelt words.
They both tacitly avoided mentioning the things each had hidden from the other.
Roan hung up, sitting in the SUV, watching this scene with twitching eyelids and a stomach full of words he didn't know how to express.
Lacey, having arrived with the SWAT after things were over, chatted with them for a bit, arranged to go shopping with a female agent the next day, and then returned to Roan's SUV.
"Take me to the 'Flame Queen' bar in Manhattan."
As soon as she got in, Lacey urged Roan to drive quickly, then pulled down the mirror above the passenger seat. Miraculously, she produced several cosmetics from her pocket and began applying them to her face.
"A bit faster, someone’s waiting for me there."
"..."
Roan looked constipated, but said nothing. He shifted gears and pressed the accelerator, and the SUV rolled forward.
Once her makeup was done, Lacey put away her cosmetics, took off her blazer, folded up her shirt and tied it, adopting a seductive look. Watching the streetlights recede along the road, she fell silent for a long time, face tangled with emotion, and finally asked,
"Hey, Roan... Can you drive like you did when you were racing?"
"What did you say?"
Roan turned his head and smiled,
"I remember someone once complained my driving was too fast, vowed never to ride with me again—now you want me to race?"
Petty man.

Lacey rolled her eyes dramatically, thought for a moment, then somehow produced four business cards and handed them to Roan as he drove.
"If you get me to the 'Flame Queen' bar within twenty minutes, tonight you can have one of these girls. How about it?"
Roan glanced sideways but didn’t take the cards.
"Who are they?"
"Relax, kiddo, I wouldn’t lie to you—there’s nothing for me to gain. This is your reward for cracking today’s case with me."
Lacey shoved the cards into Roan’s suit pocket, grinning.
"They’re all students at New York University—good looks, great figures, so they work as barmaids and models at the bar. With my help, as long as you’re not too clueless, you’re sure to take one home tonight."
"Heh."
Roan glanced at the cards in his pocket, shook his head disdainfully.
"One? I want them all!"
Lacey: "???"
The next second, Roan floored the gas pedal. The engine roared, and the black SUV shot forward like a bolt of lightning.
——
In a brightly lit conference room on the first floor of the Jacob Federal Building,
A crowd of journalists, forced to work overtime by management, sat with notebooks and cameras, staring at Veronice at the front of the room.
Veronice had changed out of the business suit she wore four hours ago, opting for another, more relaxed suit with long trousers.
Her makeup was heavier than before, giving her an even sharper air.
"Good evening, everyone. Thank you for attending this press conference."
Veronice briefly summarized the situation at the scene, then described how her agents solved the case, followed by a short introduction of the murderer, Fraser. When it came to explaining how her agents apprehended the killer, she suddenly stopped.
"Why did she stop?"
"Was someone hurt?"
Reporters from several small newspapers were puzzled, unable to understand why Veronice paused at the critical moment.