Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss-Chapter 21: Shopping is over.

Almost half an hour later, they were finally finished. The cart was filled with pencils, sketchbooks, drawing paper, and other art supplies.

"Card or cash, sir?" The cashier asked.

"Card."

"That will be exactly $1,300, sir."

"What?" James blinked at the number on the screen. "Are these made of gold or what?" He let out a laugh before tapping his card to pay. The transaction went through, and they left the store, bags in hand.

James glanced at Charlotte, who was holding one of the bags. "Hold it firmly, because that's worth somebody's monthly wage."

Charlotte's eyes widened slightly, gripping the bag tighter. "I... didn't realize art supplies were this expensive."

James shrugged. "I'm just making an investment."

Charlotte looked up at him, confused. "Investment?"

"Yeah." James said with a grin. "I expect to see some masterpieces from you now."

Charlotte blinked up at him, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

Her eyes shimmered with excitement, her cheeks blushed.

"You really think I can make masterpieces?" She asked, almost in a whisper, like she was afraid to believe it.

James chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Of course. Why else would I spend a fortune on all that?"

She let out a small, happy giggle, hugging the bag close to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Her steps became lighter, almost like she was bouncing with excitement.

And with that, they continued walking through the mall, Charlotte practically glowing, while James couldn't quite shake the small smile lingering on his lips.

As they went up the escalator, James suddenly stopped.

"Okay, we're parting here. Charlotte, you go with Bella to the drugstore to get the... uh, girl things. Me and Hans are gonna grab some ice cream, okay?"

Charlotte's shoulders slumped slightly, disappointment flashing in her eyes, but she nodded. "Okay..."

James noticed her reaction and smirked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his card, handing it to Bella. "Here, you can buy yourself something too."

Bella's eyes lit up mischievously as she took the card. "Oh? So it really is a date then... Should I buy condoms—"

"Shut up, you succubus woman!" Hans groaned, waving his hand dismissively. "Especially in front of a child."

"Enough, let's go Hans." Said James waving his hand.

Charlotte, meanwhile, watched him go, gripping the shopping bag tighter, feeling just a little bit sadder without him by her side.

But James had bigger problems.

"You noticed it too, right Hans?"

"Yeah. They actually started following us the moment we stepped in. Four behind us, and two went after the girls."

James clenched his jaw. "And they aren't NSBI agents."

Hans raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"One of them has a tattoo and another gun is visible. NSBI agents wouldn't be that sloppy," James muttered. "These guys are something else."

"What should we do? You don't even have on the bulletproof vest."

"We get our ice cream first."

Hans gave him a look. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." James said, his voice low but amused. "Because if things go south, I want one last good bite before dealing with them."

Hans chuckled under his breath. "That kinda true."

So they did.

As James casually ate his ice cream, his gaze flickered to the tattooed man who sat down three tables away from the.

The more he looked, the clearer the tattoo became. His grip on the spoon tightened.

"There's no way..."

Hans immediately noticed the shift in James's tone.

His instincts kicked in as he released his hand from the table and gripped the gun hidden underneath. "What? What is it?"

James exhaled slowly. "These guys... they belong to Sophia Conti."

Hans's eyes widened slightly.

"You're kidding. But she's a member of the Circle..."

"Yeah, she is..."

Hans tensed. "Should we—"

Before he could finish, James scooped up the last bit of his ice cream and stood up.

Without hesitation, he walked straight toward the tattooed man's table and sat down across from him.

The man's posture stiffened the moment he saw James.

He immediately tried to get up, but Hans was faster. He clamped a firm hand on the guy's shoulder, keeping him in place.

"I am deeply sorry for my annoyance today, sir," the man said quickly, lowering his head in desperation. "But... Sophia got jealous of the woman by your side. That's why we were following you. But I know it was a great sin, please—"

James sighed, cutting him off. "That's enough. Thank you."

Sophia... another psycho in love with me? Should I just start a harem? No way and even spying on me?

"Hans, I know I said it was going to be an easy day, but can you—"

"I do everything you say, James." Hans interrupted, "but if I go now, who's gonna drive?"

"Bella can't drive?"

"She can't drive a manual." He smiled.

James sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Then I'm going to."

"Should I just get some men and—"

"No, it's alright." James interrupted. "And the car is armored, isn't it?"

Hans nodded. "Yeah."

"Then go. Handle it." James said as he turned to leave.

Hans smirked. "As you wish."

He made his way to the drugstore, and just as he arrived, he saw Bella and Charlotte walking toward him, both carrying a bunch of bags.

Out of curiosity before they reached him he pulled out his phone to check his balance, only to see that it had dropped by 3,213 dollars.

His eyes twitched.

What the hell did she buy?

"Where is Hans when we need a donkey to carry our stuff?" Bella scoffed, struggling with the weight of the bags.

"Give it to me, Charlotte." James grabbed three bags from her, handing her his ice cream instead.

"Thank you." Charlotte said softly, a slight blush dusting her cheeks.

James then turned his attention to Bella, locking eyes with her. "Can I ask exactly what cost that much money?"

Bella tilted her head innocently. "Well, shampoos, hair care, nail care, lip balm..." She started listing, her tone casual.

James narrowed his eyes. "Bella."

She grinned. "In short, we bought the expensive ones. For quality, of course. And I also got us six super-niche fragrances so you and I can match up perfectly~"

"You do realize this isn't a luxury shopping spree, right?"

Bella winked. "Handsome men should smell expensive darling...and if you think about it I'm spending her money." She pointed at the munching Charlotte.

But why don't you understand that it's blood money, and I need to launder it to use it...?

James thought, shaking head.

And Charlotte, still holding her ice cream, suddenly mumbled.

"She also bought condoms. A lot of them. A 30-pack one with a free—"

Before she could finish, Bella lunged at her, clamping a hand over her mouth.

"She's lying!"

Charlotte frantically shook her head, her wide eyes saying otherwise.

"Let's go, you two..."

They walked out of the mall, bags in hand, and headed to the car. James slid into the driver's seat, exhaling as he gripped the steering wheel.

Bella hopped into the passenger seat, tossing her bags carelessly into the back.

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Charlotte quietly climbed into the backseat, hugging one of her bags as she licked her ice cream.

"We're going to fashion street and then heading home, okay?"

The girls nodded, and thus began four hours of sheer agony as James endured endless shopping while the girls happily browsed store after store.

We nearly dropped forty thousand at these stores... I'm really going to have to use that blood money he gave me, huh? Ahh...

But for his happiness the shopping was over finally and it was time to head home.

Of course it wouldn't be James if everything went so smoothly.

Blue lights suddenly flashed behind them, followed by the sound of sirens.

"Ahh, really?" Bella sighed.

"There was a 50 speed limit sign. You're getting fined." Charlotte said from behind.

James glanced at her in the backseat and smirked. "Someone who doesn't even have a driver's license can't be fined."

On the outside, he seemed calm. But inside? Pure panic.

Why now? Why can't I have a normal day?

Before he knew it, the officer was already at his window.

"Good afternoon, sir. You exceeded the speed limit—I clocked you at 78. Can you roll down your window and provide your driver's license?" The officer asked.

James remained silent for a moment before he simply opened the car door instead.

The sudden action made the officer step back, his hand hovering near his weapon.

"Sir?" He asked cautiously, eyeing James with suspicion.

"I'm sorry " James said, gesturing toward the car. "But look, this is a special vehicle, I can't roll down the window, only just a bit."

The officer hesitated before stepping closer.

As he examined the door, his eyes widened, it was thicker than normal. The windows, nearly half a brick thick, were clearly bulletproof.

The officer frowned. "I need to check something. You can sit back."

He walked past the car, noting the license plate, and returned to his patrol vehicle to run it through the system.

Within seconds, bold red letters appeared on his screen:

"DO NOT STOP – RESTRICTED INDIVIDUAL"

The officer's pulse quickened as he read the warning on the screen.

Restricted Individual?

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. He had never encountered a restriction like this before.

A crackle from his radio made him jump.

"Unit 3-1, status update?"

"Possible restricted individuals. Running a plate now."

A long pause. Too long. Then—

"Disengage."

His grip on the radio tightened. His eyes darted to the vehicle again.

Who the hell was in that car?

"Dispatch, confirm restriction on license plate XJ-572Q. I repeat, XJ-572Q. Who am I dealing with?"

Silence.

Then, a sharp burst of static.

"Unit 3-1, disengage immediately. Do not engage."

Then, after a while another car arrived.

A full-white sedan, no license plates, tinted windows. It parked right behind the officer.

A big, tall man stepped out of the vehicle, moving slowly toward the officer's car.

He stopped, knocked on the window, and just stood there.

"If you obstruct a traffic stop, I can—"

Suddenly, a powerful punch landed straight on his nose.

The officer reeled back, dazed. Before he could react, the man grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head up.

"What the fuck is that saying?!" He turned the officer's head to the laptop.

"Restricted person, doesn't it?" He scoffed.

"Even dispatch told you to fucking leave, and you're still here? You got a death wish?"

The officer, still dazed, fumbled for his gun.

"No, no! I—I want to help you! Look! It says International Security Department. I...S...D." He showed his badge.

But the officer wasn't really impressed.

Instead, he pushed the red button in his patrol car.

A silent alert. A distress signal.