Chapter 195: The Spy Turns Out to Be Him
After hanging up on Camilla, Evelyn looked at the dark screen. A faint smile actually touched her lips.
"Discarded?" She turned and picked up her shears, cleanly snipping the last thread on her workbench. "In this game, we’re about to see who is the player and who is the pawn."
The studio door opened again. This time, it wasn't a crying assistant. A group of tall, striking women walked in. At the front was Anya Buckley, a rising Hollywood star and the global face of Nova Group.
"Boss Ryan said you needed a rescue," Anya said, removing her sunglasses. "I’ve never walked a runway, but if it’s your clothes, I’m willing to try."
National Arts Center, D.C. The lights were dazzling. Despite the online firestorm, the debut of the "Lawrence Heir’s Fiancee" still drew a massive crowd of media and socialites. Camilla sat in the center of the front row, sipping champagne, waiting for the disaster. She expected an empty stage and a room full of ruined fabric.
However, the lights dimmed. A deep, magnificent cello melody began. On the LED screen, an iris flower slowly bloomed amidst a raging fire.
"Origin: Awakening."
As the narration ended, the curtain at the end of the runway pulled back. It wasn't the stiff walk of a professional model. Anya Buckley stepped out in the deep crimson velvet gown.
The audience gasped. This wasn't a trendy cut. The red velvet flowed like blood over her body, but the shoulders and waist were reinforced with sharp, metallic lines. The most shocking part was the embroidery—not a common pattern, but the iris totem outlined in silver thread.
"My god... it’s art." "This is the 'carcinogenic' fabric? What a joke. The luster is perfect!"
Camera shutters clicked frantically. The flashes turned the runway as bright as day. The smile froze on Camilla’s face. Her champagne glass tilted, spilling wine onto her couture dress, but she didn't even notice.
The show ended to thunderous applause. Evelyn, dressed in a simple black suit, walked out holding Anya’s hand for the bow. She didn't speak. She simply swept her gaze over Camilla in the front row. That look was a silent slap across Camilla’s face.
In the backstage lounge, Evelyn had just taken a sip of water when a knock came at the door. Julian Lawrence, a senior member of the Family Council, walked in. This sixty-year-old man was known for being "moderate and neutral." He had been the one to lead the support for giving Evelyn a chance during the earlier meeting.
"Absolutely brilliant, child." Julian had a kind smile as he stepped forward to embrace her.
"Uncle Julian," Evelyn nodded politely. "Thank you for your support earlier."
"You did it yourself. That grit... you’re just like Madeline." Julian sighed, his gaze seemingly accidental as it drifted over Evelyn’s handbag. "By the way, I heard you spent a lot of time in the garden the other day. The old gardener said he saw you looking for something under the old oak."
Evelyn’s grip on her cup tightened. She had dug up the tin box late at night, specifically avoiding cameras and patrols. Other than Camilla, no one should have known she was there. More importantly, she had never mentioned the "old oak" to anyone, not even Ryan. She had only said she was "in the garden."
How did Julian know it was the old oak? Unless he was monitoring her. Or, he already knew what was buried there.
Evelyn’s heart hammered, but she kept her face neutral. She even gave a confused smile. "The old oak? I was just walking around. I actually tripped and got mud all over myself."
She paused, lowering her voice, her eyes locking onto Julian’s face. "However, I did find some interesting things while going through my mother’s effects. For instance... records of a certain organization’s fund transfers in Zurich."
Julian’s pupils contracted sharply. His left hand instinctively rose, his thumb rubbing the heavy gold ring on his left ring finger. The movement was sudden, and to Evelyn, it looked like a slow-motion replay.
Her eyes dropped to the ring. The face of the ring bore the family lion crest, but around the edges of the crest was a fine, subtle pattern of thorns.
It was exactly like the "Thorn" symbol from the diary representing the mole.
It was him. The man playing the kind elder, the one who spoke up for her in meetings, was the one hidden deepest within the family.
"Is that so? That’s... very important." Julian gave a forced laugh, a thin layer of sweat appearing on his brow. "That information is too dangerous for you to hold. Evelyn, listen to me. Give it to me for safekeeping. I’ll take it directly to the Inspection Committee to clear your mother’s name."
"Ryan already has a backup," Evelyn said, taking a step back to create distance. "The original is right here."
"Evelyn!" Ryan’s voice boomed from the doorway. He strode in, still cold from the outside air, clearly having raced back. Seeing Julian there, Ryan’s eyes turned guarded.
"Uncle Julian, what are you doing here so late?" Ryan moved to Evelyn’s side, subtly shielding her.
"Oh, just offering my congratulations." Julian quickly withdrew his hand, reverting to his elder persona. "Since Ryan is here, I won't disturb you. Get some rest."
He turned and hurried away.
"What happened?" Ryan took Evelyn’s hand, feeling her tension.
"It’s him." Evelyn grabbed Ryan’s sleeve, her voice urgent. "Julian is 'Thorn'. The ring on his hand, his reaction... Ryan, check his accounts! He was trying to find out what's in the diary!"