Chapter 197

Chapter 197

The Seymour Group, CEO's Office

Leopold stared at the woman sobbing in front of him, her face streaked with tears.

She looked so much like Octavia—the same eyes, the same face shape, even the same silky long hair.

But the expression she wore now? He'd never seen it on Octavia's face before.

Claire reached out, trying to grab Leopold's pant leg.

John moved fast, stepping in front of her. She grasped at air and collapsed onto the floor, crying even harder.

"Mr. Seymour, I'm Claire—I'm your wife! Octavia stole my identity. She locked me up, wouldn't let me see anyone, and then she pretended to be me and married you! Please, you have to save me. I can't go back to being locked up again."

Her voice came out hoarse, broken by gasping sobs. Tears streamed down her face.

She knew she looked beautiful when she cried. Since childhood, hardly anyone could resist her tears. Men softened, women sympathized. She'd used this trick countless times. It had never failed her.

Leopold looked down at her, his face completely blank.

Claire kept crying, but when he didn't react, panic fluttered in her chest. She quickly steadied herself.

She lifted her head, gazing at him through blurred tears, her voice even softer now, laced with both grievance and helplessness.

"Mr. Seymour, I know you hate me—hate me for saying those awful things at the party. But I didn't want to say them! Octavia made me! She was jealous I got to marry you, so she deliberately taught me those words to embarrass me at the party, to make you hate me, so she could take my place!"

John stood off to the side, his mouth twitching slightly, but he said nothing.

Claire continued, "She locked me in a house in the mountains. She tied me up with rope, wouldn't let me leave, wouldn't let me call anyone or contact anyone. She said if I tried to run, I'd never see the outside world again. I was so scared. I'm still so scared. Mr. Seymour, please save me. I'm begging you."

She trembled all over, her forehead pressed to the floor, her shoulders shaking with sobs. She looked utterly pitiful.

The office fell silent for several seconds.

Outside the window, gray clouds hung low, threatening rain.

Claire sat on the floor, unsure what Leopold was thinking. She didn't dare get up. Occasionally, she let out another sob.

John stood nearby, glancing at Leopold's back, then at Claire on the floor. His face remained expressionless.

After a long while, Leopold finally turned around.

He picked up his phone from the desk. The screen lit up, revealing a new message.

He glanced down at it, and his entire demeanor suddenly turned ice-cold, as if something had frozen him solid in an instant.

John noticed the shift immediately. A bad feeling settled in his gut.

Leopold's mood had just taken a sharp turn.

But Leopold didn't explode. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, then set the phone facedown on the desk. He lifted his head and looked at Claire.

"You're saying Octavia voluntarily used your name to come to the Seymour Family?"

His voice was perfectly calm. Claire couldn't read any emotion in it, but John could. Beneath that calm surface, something far more dangerous than anger was brewing.

Claire nodded quickly, tears welling up again. "Yes! It was her—she did it on purpose! She's been jealous of me since we were kids, always trying to steal everything from me. This time was no different. When she heard I was marrying you, she couldn't stand it. She wanted to replace me, so she tricked me and came to the Seymour Family pretending to be me."

Leopold didn't interrupt. He just listened.

Thinking he believed her, Claire grew bolder. She poured out her story with even more fervor.

She spun an elaborate tale about how Octavia had deceived her, locked her away, and stolen her identity—complete with vivid details and emotional weight.

When she reached the most moving parts, tears flowed freely again. She looked utterly heartbroken.

"Mr. Seymour, everything I'm telling you is true. You have to believe me! Octavia isn't a good person. She got close to you for a reason—she's using you for money! Please don't let her fool you!"

Leopold stood there, silent from beginning to end.

Only after Claire had finished speaking, finished crying, and sat gasping on the floor did he finally speak.

"Are you done?"

Claire froze. She looked up at him.

His face was shadowed, his expression unreadable. But his eyes were fixed in her direction—like he was looking at her, or maybe through her at someone else entirely.

"I'm done," she said, her voice faltering.

Leopold remained silent for a long time.

The office was so quiet she could hear the ticking of the wall clock and her own rapid breathing.

"So she really is a liar."

He finally spoke, his voice low, as if talking to himself.

Claire's heart leaped. Thinking he believed her, tears of relief sprang to her eyes.

"Mr. Seymour, you finally see her for what she is! I'm the victim here—Octavia's victim!"

"You two really are sisters," Leopold interrupted, his tone still eerily calm. "Neither of you has a very good memory."

Claire froze, confused. She opened her mouth to respond, but Leopold had already turned to John.

"Call Monica."

John nodded and pulled out his phone.

Claire sat on the floor, her mind blank.

She didn't understand why Leopold wanted Monica here, or what he meant about memory.

All she knew was that things weren't going the way she'd planned. Leopold's reaction was wrong—too calm. It frightened her.

Before long, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Monica pushed the door open and stopped dead when she saw Claire on the floor.

"Who the hell is this?" She squinted at her for several seconds, then her eyes widened. "Claire? Wait, Octavia? No, which one of you is which?"

John stepped forward and murmured a few words to her.

Monica's expression changed. She walked over to Claire, bent down, and stared at her face for several long seconds.

"You're Claire?" Her voice rose sharply. "At the airport, you told me you were Octavia. You said the other person was Claire and that I should take her away. You even showed me your phone and ID. She was Claire. Now you're telling me you're Claire?"

Claire's face went deathly pale.

How could she have forgotten about the airport?

She'd been so focused on clearing her own name, on pinning everything on Octavia, that she'd forgotten Monica was the one who'd taken Octavia away. Monica had seen both of them at the airport with her own eyes.

"I was just…" Her lips trembled as she tried to come up with an explanation, but her mind went blank.

"You were just what?" Monica's voice grew even louder. "You told me your sister didn't want to get married, that you came to convince her, and when she wouldn't listen and insulted you, you asked me to teach her a lesson! Now you're saying your sister locked you up and stole your identity? Which story is actually true?"