Chapter 107 Liking Him Is a Very Normal Thing
Fiona wore a cream-colored sweater today, her long hair loosely tied back, giving her a graceful and gentle appearance, though her eyes still held a trace of hostility.
Since their reunion, she had been hoping Oliver would ask to meet her, but her hopes were ultimately dashed.
Alison looked at her hands, covered in numerous small scars she couldn't remember acquiring.
Her palms had a thin layer of calluses, and her knuckles were a bit rough due to boxing practice. The backs of her hands and the base of her fingers were noticeably thicker than usual, not as delicate as Fiona's.
"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'll handle it myself," Alison said, declining Fiona's offer of hand cream.
As she turned to leave, Fiona instinctively called out, "Wait!"
"Yeah? Something up?"
"Are you really just colleagues with Oliver?" Fiona asked, her eyes fixed on Alison.
"No," Alison replied, "we're good friends."
"Are you sure there's nothing more than friendship between you two?" Fiona pressed on.
"And what right do you have to question me?" Alison raised an eyebrow, a sign of her displeasure to those who knew her well. "Why should I make promises to Oliver's ex-girlfriend?"
"I knew it! You definitely have feelings for Oliver!" Fiona exclaimed, as if she had caught Alison in a lie.
"He's such a kind and strong person. It's perfectly normal to like him," Alison said, realizing her true feelings as she spoke.
She longed for more of Oliver's affection and couldn't deceive herself any longer.
"Oliver won't like you!" Fiona said, almost as much to herself as to Alison. "He hates mixing work with personal feelings. If he finds out how you feel, he'll definitely push you away!"
"Is that so?" Alison responded calmly, with a slight smile. "We'll see about that."
Meanwhile, Oliver left The Twin Towers alone.
He had suggested everyone split up to avoid Alison and meet Ophelia.
Oliver arrived at the coffee shop, and Ophelia waved at him with a smile, studying his condition. "Busy lately? I called you this morning, and you were still asleep. I almost thought you were sick."
"Just a late night," Oliver explained, urging her, "So, where's the stuff?"
"Here it is." Ophelia handed him a high-end gift bag, slightly larger than a hand, and asked with a smile, "Why the sudden gift for Alison?"
That wasn't typical Oliver.
"No reason," Oliver said, stopping Ophelia from prying further. He opened the bag and glanced inside. "What's this? Cosmetics?"
"Hand cream," Ophelia replied. "You didn't tell me why you wanted to give a gift, so I thought jewelry, lipstick, or perfume wouldn't be suitable. Aren't you treating Alison like a sister?"
She paused to observe Oliver's expression. "Hand cream is a safe and appropriate choice. This brand is moisturizing and has a pleasant jasmine scent. Last time Alison visited, I noticed she had a faint jasmine fragrance."
Oliver nodded appreciatively. "Her laundry detergent has that scent. You were very thoughtful."
"When you rarely ask for my help, how could I not be?" Ophelia said, sipping her coffee and glancing at The Twin Towers nearby. "What's going on with Thomas Holdings?"
"A staff member died," Oliver replied succinctly.
"It's fine to investigate small cases, but your dad wanted me to remind you that Thomas Holdings has widespread influence and tangled interests. Think carefully before digging deeper," Ophelia said seriously.
"I get it." Oliver had tasked his team with gathering information, but he was aware of some shady dealings behind Thomas Holdings.
Ophelia smiled slightly. "Your dad also said that if you plan to take down Thomas Holdings completely, let the family know. They'll always have your back."
Oliver hugged Ophelia gently, his eyes warm. "I understand. Thanks, and thank Dad for me."
After their parting, Oliver placed the gift in his car, pondering the right moment to give it.
His phone buzzed, and he frowned tightly, immediately calling for everyone to gather.
Alison arrived at the parking lot, breathless, where the others were already waiting. "What's going on?"
Oliver had tagged her three times in the group chat.
"Your fingerprints were found on Greg's USB drive," Oliver said with a complex expression.
"What?" Everyone was stunned.
Alison was puzzled. "My fingerprints? I never touched the USB drive." She had worn gloves when she discovered it in the warehouse.
Oliver shook his head. "The USB drive had a removable shield casing. The casing only had Greg's fingerprints, but once removed, the USB inside had your fingerprints."
"Just mine? Not Greg's?" Alison saw Oliver nod and examined the report, which included pictures of the USB without its casing, a flat, unremarkable metal drive.
Alison remembered.
"On the 11th, at noon in the restaurant, I found a USB drive under a neighboring table's chair. I picked it up, and the waiter said they didn't know whose it was, so I put it in the lost-and-found box."
Alison described, "The restaurant often has lost items, so they have a box for them, unattended."
She had placed the USB near the box and left, not thinking much of it.
Who knew it was Greg's USB!
"Greg's shield USB was attached to his phone, recognizable by many. The killer removed the casing to avoid detection but accidentally dropped the USB in the restaurant," Oliver quickly pieced it together and ordered, "Retrieve the restaurant's surveillance footage and check frame by frame to see who took the USB!"
An hour later, they had results—it was Sophia.
Two minutes after Alison left the restaurant, Sophia hurried in, asking the waiter about a USB. The waiter directed her to the lost-and-found box, where she found the USB, covered it with a napkin, and quickly pocketed it.
"Sophia is a prime suspect. Request an arrest warrant and prepare to apprehend her!" Oliver commanded calmly. "Find Sophia first!"
Sophia had come to work as usual that morning. Taylor mentioned seeing her in the marketing department recently.
They rushed to the 19th floor, but Sophia wasn't at her desk.
The light blue cubicle had cute stickers, and the desk was neatly organized, with everything in place, even the plant in the corner freshly watered, droplets still clinging to the leaves.
"Strange, why is it so clean?" Alison leaned in and saw today's date crossed out on the desk calendar, labeled "Farewell Day."
She felt a sudden sense of dread and turned to Oliver. "Something's not right. It looks like she's planning—"
A scream came from the break room, and Alison and Oliver immediately rushed over.