Chapter 324 Guilty Conscience

Chapter 324 Guilty Conscience
She tilted her chin up slightly, her tone carrying a hint of playful arrogance. "In journalism, I have a higher degree than you and way more frontline experience. I already won, okay? I'm just pissed that you're not fighting for yourself—throwing away a perfectly good path to repeat the same mistakes!"

I knew she meant well. A heart of gold beneath a gruff exterior.

So I came clean. "This marriage to Michael? It won't mean a thing. I'm not leaving my career. I'll still be digging up stories with you."

Scarlett frowned, studying me for a long moment. Then something seemed to click. "Did he threaten you?"

I didn't want anyone else tangled up in the mess between William, Michael, and me, so I kept it vague. "Something like that."

The breakroom went quiet. Scarlett was smart and practical.

Even though we weren't rivals anymore, she knew her background and resources couldn't touch whatever Michael was involved in.

So she didn't push. She just sighed. "As long as you know what you're doing. Don't be naive like before."

I smiled and nodded, warmth spreading through my chest.

During the weeks leading up to the wedding, William never showed up.

Sometimes I'd hope he'd stop by the newsroom, just like he used to. Even catching a glimpse of him from across the room would've been enough.

But he never came.

I didn't know if he was deliberately keeping his distance to avoid gossip, or if he was just too swamped.

The wedding was now three days away.

Amelia sat on the couch in my office breakroom, practically begging. "Evelyn, listen to me—run. Just don't show up."

She gripped my hand, her eyes red with urgency. "I've figured it out. William is completely unreliable! If he had a plan, he would've done something by now. Instead, he's gone radio silent. What kind of man does that?"

She let out a deep sigh. "Your parents called me yesterday. Your mom was practically crying on the phone, telling you to buy a plane ticket and leave the country. Forget all this mess. The Thomas family may not be as wealthy as before, but they can still support you living comfortably abroad."

"Amelia, I'm twenty-six. They raised me. I can't keep hiding behind them like a parasite."

I met her eyes, no trace of fear left in mine. "Besides, I've never been one to run. If I wanted to run, I would've stayed silent when I found out Michael was cheating and just kept pretending everything was fine."

"You're being stubborn!" Amelia snapped, jumping to her feet. "Answer me this—what if William doesn't show up on the wedding day? Are you really going to go through with marrying Michael?"

I took a deep breath. Strangely, I felt calm. "I believe William won't lie to me. And even if he doesn't show, what does the wedding really mean? People get divorced all the time."

Just then, Michael called.

He complained that the wedding dress I'd chosen was too plain. He'd arranged four or five outfit changes for the ceremony—from the bridal entrance to the toast—and insisted I try them all. He'd even had the bridal shop rush over new styles from their flagship store in Shadow City overnight.

I tried to make an excuse, but his voice turned cold. "If you don't come try them on, I'll have the staff deliver all ten dresses to your office. Let your coworkers help you decide."

Amelia clenched her jaw and grabbed my bag. "Let's go. I'm coming with you. No way I'm letting that creep get handsy during the fitting."

We headed to the high-end boutique Michael had chosen.

The moment we walked in, I saw him lounging on the sofa, surrounded by staff holding up jewelry boxes, recommending pieces.

Diamond necklaces. Jade bracelets. Pearl earrings. Everything glittered.

"I'll take all of them. Box them up and send them to this address."

Michael didn't even glance at the price tags. He just rattled off my home address.

Amelia leaned in and whispered, "I heard from my dad that Michael's been making big moves at the Johnson Group. Even though Charles took over, Michael didn't go down—he rallied a few old shareholders. Look at him, all smug. I can't wait to see what happens when he goes bankrupt."

A staff member carrying a gown noticed us and smiled. "Ms. Thomas, you're here?"

Michael looked up. His expression darkened when his eyes landed on me. He snapped at the employee, "Call her Mrs. Johnson."

The employee's face went pale. She quickly corrected herself. "Mrs. Johnson, please come in. Mr. Johnson has been waiting."

Michael's gaze shifted to Amelia. His brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Protecting Evelyn," Amelia shot back, her voice bright and defiant. "Making sure certain perverts don't use dress fittings as an excuse to grope her."

Michael scoffed and walked over, his eyes dripping with mockery. "You know William, right? Didn't he teach you about family law? Evelyn is my legal wife. Touching my own wife—what's the problem?"

I replied coolly, "Maybe you should brush up on family law yourself. Acting like sleaze is an asset? Since when did the law give you permission to be disgusting?"

The staff froze mid-motion, jewelry boxes and gowns suspended in midair.

But they were clearly well-trained. They wouldn't dare spread gossip about what happened in the store.

Michael, afraid I'd say something even more damaging, turned back to the jewelry.

He tapped a diamond-encrusted necklace. "This one. And those sapphire earrings next to it. Box them up for my wife."

When he looked at me again, the smile in his eyes had faded. His tone was laced with venom. "Mrs. Johnson, do these suit your taste? If not, I'll have them bring out more."

"Mrs. Johnson." He emphasized the title, jabbing it into my heart over and over.

I didn't take the bait. I just smiled faintly. "Do whatever you want."

Michael's expression stiffened.

He studied my face, eyes full of suspicion.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "Evelyn, what exactly are you and William plotting?"

I blinked innocently, tilting my head. "Plotting? What are you talking about? I have no idea."

Michael loomed over me, eyes narrowing. "Stop pretending. You resisted me before, but lately, you've been going along with everything. You expect me to believe you two don't have a plan?"

I thought to myself, thank God William didn't tell me his full plan.

Otherwise, when Michael interrogated me like this, my micro-expressions might've given me away.