Chapter 89 She Has Changed
The security guard checked for a while and replied, "He's a temp worker, just started today. The name on his badge is Roman Steel. He should be gone by now."
Vincent's brow furrowed. "Can you track him down?"
"Should be able to. I have his address and phone number on record here."
Vincent gave a sharp nod and immediately forwarded the details to Dylan. "Find this man. Bring him here within two hours."
Dylan didn't waste a second. In less than an hour, Roman was ushered into the surveillance room.
He was short, wearing a dingy gray jacket, shoulders hunched. His eyes darted around the room like a cornered mouse looking for a hole to disappear into.
Vincent sat motionless in his chair, legs crossed, pinning the man with a steady, icy stare.
Roman’s skin began to crawl under the weight of that gaze. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead as he stammered, "Who... who are you people?"
"Don't you know what you've done?"
Vincent's voice wasn't loud, but it was suffocating. "Who told you to do it?"
"No... nobody..." Roman's voice shook, his hands twitching at his sides. "I mean, I didn't do anything..."
Vincent didn't bother arguing. He signaled the guard, who pulled up the high-definition footage, enlarged the image, and began playing it back frame by frame.
Roman’s face was unmistakable on the screen.
"I’m going to ask you once more, and you’d better be honest," Vincent said, leaning forward until he was inches from the man’s face. His fingers tapped a rhythmic, haunting beat on the table. "Come clean now, or I hand this footage to the police and let them ask the questions. Who told you to do it?"
Roman’s legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed. Tears of sheer panic welled in his eyes.. "Don't, don't call the police! I'll talk, I'll talk... It was... it was a woman. I don't know her name or who she is. She gave me 50,000 dollars and gave me a USB drive, told me to plug it into the computer. I... I don't know anything else!"
Vincent's tapping finger paused. "What did she look like?"
"Very pretty, long hair, big eyes, great figure. She... she..."
Roman realized his description was too generic to be helpful. He gestured frantically, searching for a detail, any detail, that would save him. Then his eyes lit up.
"Oh! Her perfume! It smelled exactly like the scent you're wearing!"
Vincent’s eyes flashed with a dark realization, though his face remained a mask of indifference. He pulled out his phone, swiped to a photo, and held it up for Roman to see.
"Is this her?"
Roman pointed at the photo and nodded repeatedly. "Yes, that's her, that's her!"
Vanessa.
Vincent let out a long, slow sigh.
Part of him was still unwilling—or perhaps unable—to believe it. He pressed one last time, "How do I know you weren't paid off to frame her? Maybe the police should be the ones talking to you."
He made a move to stand, but Roman cried out, "I have proof! I recorded her!"
He scrambled to pull a phone from his pocket and hit play on a voice memo.
Vincent would have known that voice anywhere.
Soft and sweet, but the words this voice spoke completely shattered Vincent's hopes.
"You just need to plug this USB drive into her computer. Three minutes at most. Three minutes, fifty thousand. Think about it carefully."
With every syllable, Vincent’s expression grew more rigid. His hand clenched into a fist on his knee, then slowly unfurled.
Vanessa—how could it be her?
She was so kind, so sincere. No matter how wronged she was, she would always endure and give way, considering everything carefully.
How could she do something like this?
Vincent's mind was in chaos.
His head was filled with images of Vanessa's smiling face, and then today's competition—Daisy standing on stage, fingers trembling, voice shaking, looking so miserable.
How scared she must have been then. Daisy had poured months of her life into that project, staying up all night, revising until her eyes ached, only to have it ripped away at the finish line.
And the person who destroyed her was actually Vanessa!
Vincent felt a crushing weight in his chest.
He had planned to find the culprit and make them crawl to Daisy for forgiveness.
But that person happened to be Vanessa!
How could he treat Vanessa that way? She was the woman who had taken a knife for him, waited for him for six years, grew up with him, and whom he had sworn to protect forever.
The secret would have to stay with him. He’d bury it deep.
Actually, Daisy wasn't really harmed, was she?
She’d actually turned the disaster into a victory, winning over Professor Morgan and taking second place.
If it had been her original work, maybe she wouldn't have gotten such good results at all.
Vincent took a shaky breath and turned to Roman. "You can go. And as far as you're concerned, this meeting never happened."
As Roman scurried out, Vincent looked at the security guard. "Delete the footage. All of it."
By the time Daisy and Ethan came looking for answers, the trail was cold. The evidence was gone.
...
The Blacks' villa.
Luna was playing the piano—something Vanessa had taught her. Now she could play and sing a simple children's song.
As soon as Vincent entered, this was the warm and sweet scene he saw.
"Daddy, Auntie Vanessa taught me another children's song! She also said next time there's a performance, she can arrange for me to play a duet with her."
Vincent forced a small smile. "That’s great, Luna. But go up to your room for a bit. I need to talk to Vanessa alone."
Luna’s face fell slightly, but she obeyed, heading upstairs.
"What do you want to say?" Vanessa asked, turning toward him. Even now, under the soft glow of the living room lights, she looked so innocent. He still struggled to reconcile this woman with the voice on the recording.
"The person who hired someone to tamper with Daisy's computer and delete her competition entry was you, right?"
The smile on Vanessa's face faded bit by bit, and her lips began to tremble.
"Vince, I..."
"Why?" Vincent's voice suddenly rose as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. "Why did you do this? I've already divorced her, I've already promised to marry you. What more are you unsatisfied with that you had to use such despicable means to hurt her?"
Vanessa knew that without solid evidence, Vincent wouldn't be like this. Denying it now was useless.
So then...
She let out a bitter, jagged laugh as her eyes welled with tears. "Why? Vincent, don't you understand why?"
Vincent froze, his grip loosening.
"Do you think I’m blind? Do you think I don't see the way you look at her?" Vanessa’s voice rose, a mix of genuine pain and calculated desperation. Tears streamed down her face. "You’ve fallen in love with her, haven't you? You don't want to divorce her at all, do you?"
She stepped closer, her voice shaking. "How much of what you feel for me is actually real? Are you marrying me because you love me, or are you just trying to pay a debt? Yes, I did it. And the patent incident? That was me, too! I hate her! I’m jealous, Vincent! Why should I have to wait six years for you, only to watch her steal your heart right in front of me?"