Chapter 196: A Public Argument Breaks Out
Ryan’s face paled instantly. He pulled out his encrypted phone and dialed his elite hacking team.
"Now. Immediately. I want every overseas account belonging to Julian Lawrence for the last decade. Focus on Credit Suisse and offshore entities in the Caymans."
Five minutes later, his phone buzzed with a detailed financial report. Ryan scrolled through the data, his expression darkening with every line.
"I found it." Ryan turned the screen toward Evelyn. "Ten years ago, the week your mother died, one of Julian’s shell companies received a five-million-dollar wire. The sender was the exact foundation Marcus used for money laundering. On top of that, he’s been secretly buying up Lawrence Group shares with untraceable funds for years."
It all clicked. The cycle was complete. Marcus was the attack dog, but Julian was the mole hiding in the inner circle, pulling strings behind a mask of kindness.
"I’m going to get him," Ryan said, tucking his phone away. "This time, I’m going to tear that mask off myself."
"I’m coming with you." Evelyn grabbed her car keys. "He’s the one who killed my mother."
They strode out with their bodyguards. But before they could clear the hallway, a wave of chaotic screaming erupted from the ballroom.
"Call an ambulance! Hurry!" "Mr. Julian collapsed!"
Ryan and Evelyn exchanged a grim look. They bolted toward the ballroom. When they burst through the doors, Julian was on the floor, convulsing. Foam bubbled at his mouth, and his eyes had rolled back. He was already unconscious.
"What happened?" Ryan grabbed a nearby waiter by the collar.
"I don't know... Mr. Julian just..." The waiter shook with terror.
"Move!" Ryan shoved through the crowd and knelt to check.
It was too late. This wasn't a stroke. It looked like a neurotoxin causing central nervous system paralysis. Someone had gotten to him first.
Suddenly, Ryan’s phone rang again. It was the guard stationed at the guest wing.
"Sir, there’s an emergency! A fire broke out in the guest rooms. It’s out now, but Ms. Bell’s safe was blown open."
Evelyn’s breath hitched. "The tin box..." she whispered. "The notebook pages..."
"Gone," the guard said, his voice trembling. "The room was scorched. Nothing was left."
Evelyn looked down at Julian. Even if he survived, he would be a vegetable. The lead was cold. The evidence and the witness had been wiped out in a single breath.
The smell of smoke filled the charred hallway. Water dripped from the fire sprinklers onto the blackened remains of the luxury suite. Evelyn stood at the door, staring at the empty, mangled safe.
"It was a professional job. They used accelerants throughout the room," a guard reported. "The security footage was looped ten minutes before it started. We saw nothing."
Evelyn didn't say a word. She turned and walked away. In this estate, only one person knew she had hidden that box in the safe: Camilla, who had seen her digging in the garden.
In a suite in the main building, Camilla sat on a velvet sofa, leisurely trimming a bouquet of fresh white roses.
"It was you." Evelyn burst into the room. "You had someone burn my room and steal the notes."
Camilla’s shears paused. Snip. A blooming rose head fell to the floor. "Ms. Bell, you look like a madwoman who just crawled out of a dumpster." She wiped her fingers with a silk cloth. "Accusations without evidence are slander. Is this the upbringing you learned in the slums?"
"You saw me with that box in the garden." Evelyn stepped closer, slapping the cloth out of Camilla's hand. "Give it back."
"Ha." Camilla stood up, her blue eyes full of mockery. "I saw a rat digging in the dirt. How should I know what the rat found? Maybe you lost it yourself, or maybe you’re staging this 'fire' to frame me?"
"You—"
"Enough!" A sharp bark cut through the argument. Ryan strode in, his brow furrowed, smelling of hospital disinfectant. He looked exhausted.
"Ryan, you’re just in time." Camilla immediately adopted a frightened expression, clinging to Ryan’s arm. "This crazy woman burst in and accused me of arson and theft. You know me. I’m afraid to kill a chicken. How could I do something like that?"
Evelyn stared at Camilla’s hand on Ryan’s arm, then looked at Ryan. "Ryan, it’s her. She threatened me in the garden."
Ryan looked at Evelyn, his eyes complex and tired. He took a deep breath. "Evelyn, I know you’re upset. But Camilla and I grew up together. I don't believe she’s capable of something so low. Without hard evidence, don't jump to conclusions."
Evelyn stared at him in disbelief. Behind him, Camilla gave Evelyn a triumphant smile and mouthed the words: See? He believes me.
In that moment, everything flashed through Evelyn’s mind—Camilla’s provocations, the late-night scene in the study, and the suffocating feeling of being an outsider. Her logic snapped.
"Evidence? You want evidence?" Evelyn let out a sharp, cold laugh. "Ryan Lawrence, you don't want evidence. You just can't bring yourself to touch her! If you trust her so much, then stay with her! Why bother with me at all?"
Ryan’s face darkened. He grabbed Evelyn’s shoulders. "Will you calm down? This isn't the time for a tantrum!"
"Let me go!" Evelyn shoved him back. "A tantrum? Fine! I’m just an unrefined orphan. I don't belong with your high-and-mighty bloodlines! If that’s the case, we have nothing left to say."
She turned to leave, but Ryan caught her wrist and yanked her back.