Chapter 97

Chapter 98

Diana turned away to busy herself with other things, forcing her attention elsewhere. She didn't open any social media apps again.

So naturally, she never saw the second half of that video. Right after Ryder stormed off, another farce unfolded at Westside Cemetery.

The rain intensified.

The Russell family's car had barely left the winding mountain road when a black SUV screeched to a halt outside the police line.

The door flew open. Joanna didn't even bother with an umbrella, splashing through puddles as she charged toward the depths of the cemetery.

The black-suited security guards at the perimeter immediately moved to intercept her.

"Get out of my way!" Joanna shoved their arms aside.

Aubrey hurried after her, raising his hand to stop the guards. Seeing this, they silently stepped aside to let her through.

Joanna stumbled forward and collapsed in front of the headstone.

Rain streamed down her hair as she stared at Gemma's name engraved on the marble, her eyes rimmed red. Then she turned to look at Nicholas standing nearby, his entire being radiating a suffocating aura of death.

"Nicholas, you really outdid yourself this time."

After the kidnapping, Joanna hadn't been able to reach Diana at all.

Her phone was off. Messages vanished into the void. Growing increasingly uneasy, she'd pressed Aubrey multiple times about what had happened, but he'd always deflected, saying only that Diana temporarily couldn't contact the outside world.

It wasn't until this morning—when Joanna seized Aubrey's phone while he wasn't paying attention—that she saw the trending topics flooding the internet and learned about that horrifying live stream on international waters.

Diana had fallen into the ocean. Her whereabouts remained unknown.

Gemma had died in the hospital after a critical illness.

In just a few days, two lives—gone!

Joanna's eyes had turned red on the spot. She'd demanded to know why Aubrey had kept it from her, then forced him to bring her to the cemetery immediately.

"You drove her to her death, and now you're here throwing a funeral for Ms. Garcia? Who are you performing for!" Joanna pointed at Nicholas and let loose. "What did Diana ever owe you? She gave up her life for you—how the hell are you going to repay that!"

The surrounding guards moved to restrain her, but Nicholas raised his hand slightly, signaling them to stand down.

He'd made this funeral deliberately grand, partly as a test. If Diana were still alive, she would surely find some way to contact her best friend Joanna.

"She... hasn't contacted you?" Nicholas asked quietly, his gaze fixed on the emotionally unraveling Joanna as he struggled to keep his voice steady.

"Contact me? How could she contact me!" Joanna broke down sobbing.

"When Lindsey had a knife to her throat, did she have a phone in her hand? Nicholas, you're a complete bastard! You deserve to die alone!"

Nicholas's eyes went cold and empty.

Joanna's despair was raw and genuine—impossible to fake.

Even she didn't know Diana's whereabouts...

Nicholas lowered his gaze. His tall frame swayed slightly in the rain, betraying his weakness.

Aubrey couldn't watch anymore. He stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Joanna's shoulders, pulling her against his chest.

"She's emotionally unstable. I hope Mr. Kennedy will understand."

Joanna thrashed in Aubrey's embrace, her fists landing wildly against him.

"Let me go! Aubrey, you're an accomplice too! You knew from the start—why did you keep lying to me? You all deserve to rot in hell!"

Aubrey said nothing. He let her pound away at him, half-carrying, half-dragging her out of the burial grounds.

Eight o'clock that evening, top floor of The Kennedy Group tower.

The downpour continued hammering the floor-to-ceiling windows. The CEO's office lights were off. Nicholas was sunken deep into his oversized desk chair, half his face hidden in shadow, lost in thought.

Urgent knocking came from outside.

"Come in."

The front desk receptionist pushed open the door, holding a manila envelope with both hands. Her footsteps were feather-light, not daring to breathe too loudly.

"Mr. Kennedy."

Nicholas's dark gaze fell on the envelope in her hands.

The receptionist swallowed hard before quickly explaining: "Just now, someone wearing a baseball cap and face mask left this at the front desk, specifically requesting it be delivered to you. They were completely covered up—couldn't even tell if they were male or female. They dropped it off and left immediately."

She paused, her voice growing more nervous.

"Something felt off about it. I was worried it might be urgent, so I brought it straight up without checking with you first."

Nicholas didn't respond, just lifted his eyes slightly.

The receptionist understood. She hurried forward and gently placed the envelope on the edge of his desk.

Since Nicholas hadn't dismissed her, she didn't dare leave on her own. She could only stand there with her head lowered, trembling slightly as she waited.

The room fell into deathly silence again.

Nicholas stared at the envelope for a long moment before pulling open a drawer and taking out a letter opener. He slit the seal.

Two high-resolution printed photos slid out.

The instant his eyes landed on the photos, his pupils contracted violently and his breathing stopped.

The first photo showed a satellite map location. A red marker clearly indicated a coastal town in the southern region of a neighboring country, with coordinates listed alongside.

The second photo showed an SUV parked outside a safe house.

It was Liam... opening a car door for Diana!

The angle was cunningly chosen, perfectly capturing the wordless understanding between the two of them.

Nicholas gripped the photos, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

"Diana."

He ground out her name through clenched teeth.

She wasn't dead.

Not only was she alive—she'd fled abroad with this man.

On international waters, she'd jumped into the ocean in front of the entire internet, playing the part of a tragic, despairing woman. All of it had been a lie to deceive him.

To escape, she'd been willing to abandon even her own dying mother.

She'd promised to stay by his side—that was the deal to ensure everyone on the island would be safe. But she'd turned around and broken that promise, running off with one of the island's key figures.

He completely lost control.

Nicholas shot to his feet. The office chair rolled backward with force, slamming heavily into the solid wood bookcase.

He grabbed the crystal ashtray from the desk and hurled it violently at the floor-to-ceiling window in front of him.

"CRASH—!"

The massive impact reverberated through the office.

The tempered glass shattered across a wide area, spiderweb cracks spreading in every direction. Ash and debris scattered across the floor.

The receptionist screamed and stumbled backward against the wall, her face drained of color.

She wanted to leave but didn't dare take the initiative at a moment like this. She could only stand frozen in place, at a complete loss.

Fortunately, at that moment, the elevator outside dinged open. Terry clutched a stack of documents, his expression urgent as he headed toward the CEO's office.

"Mr. Kennedy, we found it!"

The office door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open without thinking.

"We've got leads on the identities of those kidnappers on the cargo ship. The person behind them is very likely—"

Terry's words caught in his throat.

The office was in complete disarray. Documents were scattered across the floor, the ashtray broken in two, the tempered glass covered in alarming cracks.

The receptionist was pressed against the wall, face ashen. When she saw him, it was like seeing a savior—she frantically waved him off.

And Nicholas stood by the window, clutching two crumpled photos, his eyes bloodshot. His features were twisted with violent rage, radiating a manic energy that threatened to drag everyone down into the abyss with him.

Terry's breath caught. He silently pulled his advancing leg back half an inch and swallowed hard.

With Nicholas in this state, shouldn't he really see a psychiatrist?

If Nicholas kept spiraling like this, who knew if the company would go bankrupt—but Terry was definitely going to drop dead at his desk first.