Suburbs of London.
Spencer family's manor.
It was already 7:00 PM.
At the dinner table, William was still enthusiastically chatting with Martin about the earlier go-kart racing.
Although William had lost the race to Martin, he didn't mind at all.
What he enjoyed was the thrilling competition of speed!
"I didn't take the corner well earlier, or I definitely would've passed you…"
"By the way, the F1 San Marino Grand Prix is coming up soon. Do you want to go watch it with me...?"
"Martin, how did you manage to overtake me on that third corner? What was your trick?"
Looking at her son and Martin having such a great conversation, Diana felt an unexpected surge of warmth and happiness.
Then, she noticed Martin's glance, brief but meaningful. In that fleeting moment, she understood the message in his eyes—Wait for me in bed tonight!
Diana quickly lowered her head, pretending to cut into her steak to hide the blush on her cheeks.
Later that evening, the sky darkened with clouds once again.
The weather in the greater London area was mostly cloudy or rainy, with an 80% chance of such conditions. In this city, carrying an umbrella was essential when stepping outside.
The rain came pouring down.
It drowned out the sounds of the world.
In one of the manor's bedrooms, Diana finally let out a sound!
She could no longer suppress it!
She had completely given up on the noblewoman's pride and decorum!
There was no choice—Martin was just too amazing.
He had conquered her!!!
The next morning.
"Wow, Mom, you look great today!"
Harry's compliment almost made Diana flee in embarrassment.
Just then, Martin and William walked in, chatting happily.
Harry, surprised, said, "You guys got up so early?"
Then, he seemed slightly upset, "What's going on? Why didn't you take me with you?"
"We just went around the race track a few more times. We'll bring you next time!" William said.
"Oh, well, never mind then!" Harry waved it off.
"Alright, come on and have lunch!"
Diana suddenly felt a strange sense of completeness, as if the family was whole again.
...
After breakfast, Martin, under Diana's reluctant gaze, said his goodbyes.
It was time to get back to work.
On the road, Gordon suddenly said, "Martin, we're being followed."
"Can we shake them off?"
Martin didn't even turn his head, as he had sensed it already.
"There are three cars. I'll try," Gordon said as he stepped on the accelerator.
"John, we've been spotted!" Gordon shouted.
"It's fine, we have enough people. Get the front team ready," came the response.
"1 to 2, 1 to 2, we've been spotted, get ready to take over. Over!"
"2, received. Over."
"We've lost them!" Gordon let out a breath of relief.
"No, not yet. Watch that white Chevrolet," Martin said sharply.
"Shit, they have a backup team! This isn't a paparazzi or private detective; it's too professional!" Gordon's expression turned serious.
Who could it be?
Martin pondered quietly.
The suspects were few.
Grant Brooks (the guy Martin had humiliated into barking like a dog)? Unlikely. He didn't have the resources.
So, it had to be Prince Charles or his mistress, Camilla!
What were they after?
Martin recalled Diana's death in his past life, with many unanswered questions. One of them, either Charles or Camilla, must have wanted Diana dead—Charles was more likely, as he couldn't bear to see his ex-wife with someone else. There might even be involvement from the English royal family…
But why were they targeting him?
His and Diana's affair was supposed to be very secretive. How could Charles and the royal family know so easily?
Wait... that car is Diana's!
They weren't following me—they were following Diana!
Perhaps they thought Diana was in the car.
Martin's face darkened as he suddenly told Gordon, "Gordon, don't accelerate anymore. Let off the gas and slowly decelerate. Remember, no sudden braking!"
Gordon was startled, then his face turned pale. "Martin, are you suggesting someone tampered with our brakes?"
Martin sneered. It wasn't a suspicion—he was certain. He had checked with his magic just moments ago.
Several brake components had been tampered with. If the brakes were slammed too often, they would fail, causing the car to lose control.
That's how Diana had died in his previous life.
These people were ruthless!
"2 to 1, target has stopped, repeat, target has stopped. Over."
"Received. Get closer to check. We'll be there shortly. Over."
"Understood. Over!"
The black sedan slowly stopped by the side of the road.
The white Chevrolet drove slowly past the black sedan. A man with a beard looked through the window, inspecting the car.
But he saw nothing, as the windows were tinted black.
Just as he was about to give up, the window of the black sedan suddenly rolled down, revealing a stunned face.
It wasn't Diana—it was that American genius—Martin Myers!!!
What shocked him even more was that Martin suddenly raised his hand, mimicking a "gun" gesture, and "shot" at him with a "pew~" sound, then blew on his fingers.
The bearded man was startled and quickly slapped the front seat, shouting, "Drive! Drive! We've been spotted!"
As the car drove away, the bearded man grabbed the walkie-talkie, "2 to 1, 2 to 1, we've been spotted, repeat, we've been spotted. The person in the car isn't our target—it's Martin Myers, repeat, it's Martin Myers. Over."
"Which Martin Myers? The Hollywood guy? Over."
"Yeah, that's him! Over."
"Damn it, we're following the wrong person!"
"John, I've been wondering…"
"What is it?"
"Why are we following Diana? Isn't she already divorced from the prince?"
"It's orders from above, don't ask!"
John had some suspicions.
As the first divorced princess of England, Diana had been too high-profile—charity work, speeches, mingling with many political, economic, and entertainment elites, which had drawn the royal family's displeasure.
From the royal family's point of view, as a divorced ex-princess, she should be low-key, right?
John didn't care for the royal family's actions and even thought they were stuck in the past, as if it were pre-World War II!
However, even though the British royal family had become more of a symbol, they still held some power, and their wealth allowed them to get things done.
For example, John, though dismissive of the royal family's actions, still worked for them for the right price.
But if he knew the royal family had designs on Diana's life, would he still be so nonchalant?
At that moment, the voice of Number 2 came over the walkie-talkie, sounding frantic, "Bad news, they blocked my path! What should I do? Should I make a move? Or escape?"
[•———•——•———•]
𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧