She is a natural disaster.

Chapter 29 Mike's Costume Show

The news of Le Bon Dupont's death was forcibly suppressed.

A senior detective was tortured to death, and his body was hung at the entrance of the police station. This kind of thing must never be leaked.

The police officers present last night were ordered to keep their mouths shut and no one was allowed to mention Le Bon Dupont to the outside world, or they would be dismissed from their posts.

The police officers were kept quiet, and there was no one else on the street last night. Newspapers, having received no prior warning, naturally couldn't write any related reports, and Du Pang's death was temporarily suppressed.

However, the truth cannot be hidden forever; time will gradually reveal the hidden facts.

If the murderer of Le Bon Dupont comes forward, the newspaper can launch a scathing attack on the Upper East Side Police Department.

Anastasia didn't step forward. Compared to the Upper East Side Police Department, she disliked Gloria's newspapers even more; few of those reporters were good people.

In the sunny apartment, Anastasia was trying on new clothes that the apartment manager had just delivered.

Soon, the private investigator, having changed her clothes, emerged from the restroom. She wore a blue V-neck women's blouse and light gray women's trousers.

Anastasia looked at Mike, who was eating breakfast with his head down, and said, "Are your eyes rulers? They're incredibly accurate."

Whether it's the shirt, the suit, or even the underwear, the clothes the apartment manager just delivered fit perfectly and felt comfortable to wear.

Even if Anastasia went to a clothing store herself, she might not be able to find clothes that fit this well.

Feeling guilty, Mike lowered his head even further and kept stuffing bread into his mouth, trying to create the illusion that he couldn't speak.

The clothes were delivered by the apartment manager on Montagu's call. He didn't even ask Anastasia's measurements because he had already measured them with his eyes.

"I didn't say anything, so why are you acting so guilty?"

Anastasia walked to the table and took the slice of bread that Mike had already spread with butter from his hand—a classic case of petty theft.

"As a rich young master whose hobby is finding women, if you don't even have this much ability, then you are truly pathetic, which shows that you are a vulgar person who only knows how to throw money around."

Mike looked up in surprise. Anastasia's twisted logic always surprised him and gave him a strange feeling that "this can be understood in this way."

Putting aside their initial mutual dislike, Mike now finds Anastasia increasingly pleasing to the eye. This pleasing feeling isn't romantic; it's more like looking at a close, buddy friend.

"Are you going out again today?" Mike asked.

When he said this, young master Montagu sounded a little aggrieved. The thought of being stuck in his apartment made him feel bored.

"It's only a little over a day at most, and you can't stand it already?" Anastasia asked, noticing Mike's frustration and knowing that he didn't want to stay cooped up in the apartment.

"If it weren't for the attack, I should have gone to the horse races today," Mike said dejectedly. "I might have even gone to the theater tonight."

"Does Master Montagu have any actresses he admires?" Anastasia asked, without mentioning any male actors.

Mike thought for a moment and replied, "I don't particularly admire anyone. As long as they're good-looking, I like them—cough…admire, just admire them, you understand?"

It was purely for appreciation; Mike Montagu never had any romantic relationships with the actresses in the troupe.

"Actually, it's not that you can't go to the horse race," Anastasia said slowly. "There are a lot of people there, so whether it's the police or the Supermen, they'll have to be careful when they make a move."

Upon hearing this, Mike became excited. Although he had no intention of leaving the apartment, he was still very happy to hear it.

"A theater isn't out of the question either," Anastasia continued slowly. "The theater also has a lot of people, and a large audience can provide you with some protection."

Mike was even more excited now, like a child who had just been satisfied.

"Are you going to say 'but' next?" Mike said smugly. "Giving hope first, then extinguishing it—you seem to particularly enjoy doing that kind of thing."

“I do have to say ‘but,’ but it’s not the kind of ‘but’ you’re thinking of,” Anastasia said. “Forget about the horse races and the theater. Would you be interested in picking Miss Joyce up from the police station?”

Is picking up Jolene from the police station to reveal Montague and Joyce's close relationship to everyone?

Mike frowned and thought for a while, but apart from clarifying his relationship with Jolena, he couldn't think of any other intention.

"Hey, the most important thing in life is to be happy," Anastasia continued. "Don't you want to see how ugly those people in the police station are right now?"

Was the purpose of picking up Jolina from the police station just to demonstrate against the Upper East Side Police Station and see how ugly those people looked?

Mike assumed Anastasia must have had a deeper meaning behind her actions, but to his surprise, she didn't have any hidden meaning at all.

"Isn't this too arrogant, too disrespectful to the police system?" Mike said, but his hands betrayed him, spreading butter much faster.

"Think about it, they wanted to kill you, but you got away scot-free, while they lost a fat, idiotic detective. If you don't go and humiliate them now, when will you?"

Anastasia's idea was simple: she wanted to demonstrate at the police station and, incidentally, resolve the problems left behind by Dupont.

"Let me think about it..."

Mike chewed his bread rapidly while frantically racking his brains.

"I think I should get a new carriage, a much cooler one! When I see it on the street, everyone at the other end will know it's mine!"

Michael Montague, if he was going to put on an act, he might as well go all out. He happened to own a carriage that required four horses to pull, and the carriage was adorned with the prominent Montague family crest.

"I'll have Rupert prepare the car right away!"

With that, Mike stood up abruptly, ran to the phone, and called Rupert.

Anastasia looked at the excited young master Montague and felt that the boy was a little too excited, as if he had eaten rat poison.

Little did anyone know that Mike Montagu's excitement had only just begun. After hanging up the phone, he dashed back to his bedroom, quickly grabbed a set of clothes, and returned to the dining table.

"What do you think of this outfit?" Mike held up an expensive suit and compared it to his own.

It was a dark blue suit, clearly made by a famous designer and quite expensive. Mike would probably look mature in it, but not particularly stylish.

"Not quite right." Anastasia shook her head. She felt the outfit was too formal, more like something you'd wear to the police station to do business with, not like something a villain would wear.

"Is that not possible...?" Mike thought for a moment, "Wait for me!"

As he spoke, he ran back to the bedroom, found another set of clothes, and once again held them up in front of him to show Anastasia.

"No, this outfit is too flamboyant." Anastasia shook her head. "It makes me look too much like a playboy; it lacks any sense of authority. Authority, you understand?"

"The feeling of oppression... I understand!"

Mike sprinted back to the bedroom, rummaged through drawers and cupboards, and finally found a set of clothes that looked very oppressive.

How should I describe this newly discovered outfit?

Mike Montagu seemed to have aged decades in an instant; Anastasia thought the person standing in front of her was Bill Montagu!

"I find the old man particularly intimidating," Mike said confidently. "When I was a kid, when he got serious, I wouldn't dare utter a sound; I'd just hold it in."

Anastasia's lips pressed into a thin line, and she was now speechless in her native language.

Normally, fathers can be oppressive to their sons, but Bill is Mike's father, not the police chief's father, so what oppressive feeling could he possibly have?

During the rest of the breakfast time, Mike found a few more outfits, but Anastasia was not satisfied with any of them, always feeling that they were not quite right.

Having no other choice, Anastasia had to personally select clothes for Mike.

"Are you sure I want to wear this? Very few people dress like this nowadays."

Mike frowned involuntarily as he looked at the clothes Anastasia had picked out; he thought they were too outdated.

"Anastasia, we're going to the police station, not to some noble council or one of those old-fashioned aristocratic banquets. I'm not wearing this! I refuse!"

Anastasia rolled her eyes at Mike, then stuffed the clothes into his arms, and finally pointed to the bathroom.

Mike, deprived of his freedom to dress as he pleased, reluctantly entered the bathroom, reluctantly changed into clothes he didn't like, and then walked back with his head down.

This is an extremely formal suit, a crisp black swallowtail suit paired with a snow-white wing-collar shirt and a black bow tie. Michael Montagu could wear this suit to his wedding.

"Are you sure I want to dress like this? We're going to the police station, not to church."

Mike raised his objection again, but Anastasia ignored him. She plucked a red flower from the vase and stuck it into the buttonhole of Mike's suit lapel.

In Anastasia's vision, Mike, dressed in a black suit with a red carnation tucked into the flower, would not only highlight his dashing and elegant demeanor but also reflect his status and power.

Most importantly, the overall style of this outfit is very "boss-like". If Mike combs his hair up and looks like an adult, he will have an even stronger boss-like presence.

The idea was good, but reality never quite lived up to it.

Mike Montagu is too young, only in his early twenties, and doesn't possess that composed, kingly demeanor.

Anastasia circled Mike twice before finally stopping in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, her furrowed brows looking like a knot.

"Dear Mike, I have to admit, I overestimated you."

Anastasia pulled a red carnation from the floral pattern on her suit lapel and continued, "Some people don't look like kings even when they wear crowns."

Mike was very unhappy about this, and he pointed to himself.

It's probably saying: You were the one who picked out this outfit for me, so why are you criticizing me!

"Let's go for a different style!" Anastasia said. "By the way, how about a big gulp of whiskey before we head out?"

As long as you don't give up, there's always a way to overcome difficulties. Anastasia came up with another idea.

Mike tilted his head, widened his eyes, and looked puzzled.

He downed a mouthful of whiskey before leaving home. Was he going to cause a drunken scene at the Uptown Police Station?