Chapter 547

Chapter 547

She's no longer the girl who needs protection.

Now, she is Olivia.

In the top-floor conference room of the Glover Group, the atmosphere was heavy.

Elsie sat at the head of the table, staring down at the documents she was reviewing, apparently unaware of the heavy tension that hung in the room.

"I don't agree!"

A piercing woman’s voice broke the quiet.
Maggie slammed the table and stood up, her perfectly made-up face full of arrogance and hostility.

"Olivia, don't forget who you are! You're an outsider who climbed up by latching onto my brother. What gives you the right to boss around the Glover family's business? This company is named Glover, not Forbes!"

The entire conference room went quiet, their breathing becoming almost inaudible.
Elsie didn't even lift her head.

"Security."

Her voice was soft and cold.

Maggie's face instantly flushed red.

"You wouldn't dare! I'm the third daughter of the Glover family! Who do you think you are to kick me out?"

Elsie finally put down her documents and looked up.

She looked at Maggie, her eyes calm without a ripple.

"Starting this second, you're fired."

"All your positions, access privileges, and company accounts are immediately revoked."

"Now, escort her out."

Two security guards quickly entered and grabbed Maggie's arms from both sides.

"Let go of me! Olivia, you bitch! You'll get what's coming to you! My parents won't let you get away with this!"

The harsh swearing stopped as the heavy door closed, leaving the conference room in complete silence.
Elsie picked up her pen and signed her name on the document, as if nothing had happened.

"Meeting continues."

On the way back, Harold's phone suddenly rang.

He answered, and his expression changed dramatically.

"What did you say? Which hospital?"

After hanging up, he slammed on the brakes, the car letting out a piercing screech.

"Olivia, Maggie's been in a car accident. She's being treated at Serenity Health Center."

Outside the emergency room at the hospital, chaos reigned.

Maggie's parents were both there. The moment Maggie's mother saw Elsie, she lunged at her like a madwoman. If Harold hadn't blocked her, her slap would have already landed on Elsie's face.

"It's you! You're the one who hurt my daughter! You murderer!"

Maggie's father also had bloodshot eyes, pointing at Elsie's nose.

"You just kicked her out of the company this afternoon, and tonight she's in a car accident! How can you be so cruel? If anything happens to her, I'll never let you off!"

Elsie remained standing as the harsh accusations poured over her, her expression remaining completely neutral.
"I didn't do it."

That was all she said.

Just then, several uniformed police officers walked over.

"Who is Ms. Olivia Glover?"

The lead officer looked around, his gaze finally landing on Elsie.

"We've received a report suspecting you're involved in a deliberately caused traffic accident and an intentional injury case. We need you to come with us to the station to assist with the investigation."

Harold's whole body trembled.

"Officer, this is definitely a misunderstanding!"

But Elsie's gaze passed over everyone and landed on Maggie's mother in the distance.

She saw a flash of triumphant cold smile in the woman's eyes.

She understood instantly.

This was a trap.

A trap set for her using Maggie's life as bait.

Cold handcuffs locked around her wrists.

As she was being led away, she turned slightly and said in a voice only Harold could hear.

"Don't panic."

"Go contact Bruce Valois."

Harold came out of the police station, his mind blank.

He used every connection he had, but was told that someone higher up had given advance notice about this case, no one could interfere.

He pulled out his phone, only to realize he had no direct way to contact Bruce Valois.

Driven by desperation, he yanked the steering wheel, and the car raced toward a rarely visited location.
Aline had just finished showering when she heard the doorbell ringing urgently and insistently. She opened the door impatiently.

"Who is it? In the middle of the night..."

Seeing it was Harold, she froze.

"Why are you here? Looking for Elsie? Isn't she with you..."

"Something happened."

Harold cut her off, his voice tight with tension.

He quickly explained what had happened—the conference room confrontation, the car accident, then the police station.

The impatience on Aline's face gradually faded, replaced by gravity and coldness.

"Before she was taken away," Harold's breathing was unsteady, "she told me to contact Bruce Valois."

He looked at Aline, the plea in his eyes obvious.

"I don't have his contact information. You must have a way, right?"

Aline stayed quiet for a moment. Her eyes, normally fiery, now held a chilling, frightening coldness.

She turned and grabbed her car keys from the entryway cabinet.

"Leave it to me."

Late at night, the private psychology clinic was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Aline swung open the unlocked glass door, clutching her car keys so hard that her fingers went white.
Bruce sat in the single armchair in the consultation room. The lights were off, only the city's faint glow filtering through the window outlined his lean silhouette.

On the coffee table in front of him sat a cup of tea that had gone cold.

"You're here." His voice was calm, as if he'd been waiting for a long time.

Aline stayed back in the entryway shadows, speaking in a voice that was icy and unyielding.
"Elsie's in trouble."

She briefly explained the Glover family car accident and the police station incident.

"This kind of sudden turn of events, this fast, precise, ruthless approach—doesn't it seem familiar to you?"

Bruce's hand holding the cup paused almost imperceptibly.

Five years. That nightmare of a name, that face manipulating everything from the shadows—he'd never forgotten.

The long-hidden guilt and remorse in his heart resurfaced now, raw and painfully exposed.
"I understand." He put down the cup and stood up.

"I'll investigate. Before dawn, I'll have news for you."

Aline looked at him. She didn't say thanks or anything else, just turned and pulled open the door, leaving cleanly and decisively.

Some debts don't need to be spoken—action is the best repayment.

Serenity Health Center.

Bruce, using his doctor credentials, easily entered the records room.

He quickly pulled up Maggie's accident report and all examination records since admission.

Under the light, he flipped through page by page, his brow furrowing tighter and tighter.

The report showed Maggie had intracranial bleeding, multiple fractures, serious injuries.

But the vital signs data from emergency treatment had an indescribable strangeness, as if the injuries had been deliberately exaggerated.

Especially that CT scan—with his professional eye, the location and size of the bleeding point wasn't nearly enough to be fatal, or even cause deep coma.

This was an extremely sophisticated setup.

He put down the report and left the records room, wanting to find the attending surgeon.

The corridor was empty, the harsh white lights stretching his shadow long.

Just as he turned a corner, a sharp pain struck the back of his neck.