Chapter 175 Evidence? I Have It

Chapter 175 Evidence, I Have It

The scene suddenly descended into chaos.

Tables and chairs were kicked over, screams came from several directions, and stacks of storage boxes were knocked down, spilling jewelry and gold everywhere.

"Grab it quick!"

"Take it and run, hurry up!"

"It's mine! This money is all ours!"

Stephen's face darkened as he slammed the table twice. "How dare you! Stop them, arrest them all!"

At this moment, Michelle snapped back to her senses and shouted, "I don't know anyone named Beckett! I did give birth to twins, but my other son died long ago!"

Gerald looked at Beckett beside him with a complicated expression. His secretary and assistant carefully grabbed his arms on both sides, watching Beckett warily.

Beckett looked dazed for a moment, then showed a faint bitter smile. "It wasn't me, I didn't do it. Mr. Gomez, do you believe me?"

Gerald glanced at me, his brow furrowed. "But Isabella doesn't seem like she's making things up, and she has no reason to target you!"

Seeing Beckett's confused and wronged expression, Gerald softened, saying gently, "Beckett, don't be afraid, this must be a misunderstanding!"

Some people still remained at the Gambino family's seats. Colin, sensing trouble, planned to leave early in the chaos. As soon as he stood up, Thomas called out, "Dad!"

Colin gave him a look. "We're leaving."

Thomas had just taken a step when Wendy grabbed his arm forcefully. Her expression was fierce, and tremendous strength burst from her thin body. "Where do you two think you're going? Don't even think about leaving!"

I looked around, then swept my gaze past the cold-faced Lucas and the composed Gale, and quietly sat down to wait for the storm to pass.

Marcus felt bored and bumped my shoulder. "Bella, aren't we going to do anything?"

He covered his mouth with his hand and said quietly, "Only the four major families are left now. If we stir things up while it's chaotic and make their alliance looser, it'll naturally benefit us."

I copied him, covering my mouth, and asked, "How do you want to stir things up?"

Marcus made a killing gesture. "I'm confident I can kill someone without being discovered. After that, we just need to mislead them a bit and make them suspect each other."

Before Marcus finished speaking, Gale placed his right hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard. "No need to take that risk."

Seeing Marcus's unwilling expression, Gale wasn't upset. Instead, he smiled and said, "The best gun in the world is always the one in someone else's hand."

Marcus looked at me, half-understanding. I was about to explain that the four major families would have internal rebellions anyway, and plenty of people were waiting to create chaos, so we didn't need to get involved, but Gale shook his head at me. "Let Marcus figure it out himself. Don't encourage his bad habit of being too lazy to think."

"I'm not lazy." Marcus protested. After thinking for a few seconds, he pointed at the people scrambling for money and asked, "Can we at least help suppress them? Gale, that's all our family's property!"

Gale remained seated steadily. "You believe me or not, as soon as we go over there, we'll be accused of 'disrespecting the four major families.'"

"So what," Marcus muttered irritably.

A cup of warm water was placed beside my hand.

I turned to look at Lucas. He very naturally held my thermos and said, "You talked so much just now, you must be thirsty. Have some water."

I took the cup and sipped the water in small gulps. My throat felt much better.

Michelle was still loudly insisting she had nothing to do with Beckett. Beckett was also desperately defending himself, saying he wasn't a murderer. Stephen and Felix were competing with each other—they had sent people to suppress those grabbing money, but their people ended up attacking each other, turning it into a brawl. Several people took the opportunity to grab money and run toward the door.

Grant from the Caudill family was sometimes persuading Stephen and Felix, sometimes angrily scolding Michelle and the arguing Colin family of three, and didn't even forget to remind the Woods family to arrest Beckett first. He looked busy and never stopped talking, but took no actual action.

The Woods family members whispered to each other, their eyes moving back and forth between me and Beckett. Octavia's father, Terrence Woods, asked, "Isabella, do you have evidence? Besides that person called Albino."

I put down my cup and didn't rush to answer.

Because I had no evidence.

There wasn't enough time—I hadn't been able to find solid physical evidence yet.

Michelle seemed to see hope and accused me even louder of talking nonsense.

"Evidence? I have it." Lucas said.

I was a bit surprised. Lucas called Alfred softly. Alfred was well prepared, took out a document envelope, and respectfully handed it to Lucas with both hands.

Dozens of eyes fell on the envelope. Lucas took out a pen, wrote a few words on it, then had Alfred give it to the Woods family.

I turned to look at Beckett. Beckett looked calm. I asked Lucas quietly, "Is the evidence real? Are you sure?"

"Don't worry." Lucas patted the back of my hand and held my hand.

Terrence opened the envelope, his brow furrowed. A moment later, his sharp gaze shot toward Beckett like an arrow. "Arrest him!"

Beckett didn't hesitate and turned to run, but the guests invited to the observation area weren't ordinary people either. Soon several bodyguards blocked the exit. Seeing the situation was against him, Beckett decisively rushed toward Gerald. He pulled a sharp scalpel from his coat, trying to take Gerald hostage.

Gerald was old and not agile, but his status was extraordinary, and he wasn't sufficiently guarded against Beckett—he was the best choice for a hostage.

"Watch out!" everyone exclaimed.

Just as Beckett was about to grab Gerald, Lucas fired, precisely hitting Beckett's hand and knocking the scalpel away.

Beckett cried out in pain and was quickly pinned to the ground by bodyguards rushing over.

The sounds of fists, muffled groans, and screams mixed together.

A few minutes later, the scene calmed down. Those who had grabbed property were all pressed firmly to the ground, unable to move, their faces full of embarrassment and despair.

Michelle looked anxious, desperately thinking of ways to escape the predicament. Amelia hid herself in a corner, lowering her presence—where was the smugness from the horse race?

Having just experienced a frenzy of looting and suppression, the venue still had a tense atmosphere.

Gold, silver, and jewelry were scattered everywhere. Broken antique vases, scattered documents, and crumpled land deeds lay messily on the ground—it was heartbreaking to see.

Marcus clutched his chest and cried out, "My antique gemstone clock that I bought back for seventy million dollars!"

Gale and I exchanged glances and lamented along, "What a shame about my phonograph. Many of those vinyl records were rare treasures."

"And my amethyst ornaments—there were sixteen of them from large to small. It's incomplete if even one is missing."

Showing weakness at the right time would remind people that we were the victims of that tragedy five years ago.

A flash of appreciation appeared in Stephen's eyes. He said to us, "Don't worry, most things are intact. We'll definitely return everything to its rightful owner."

This statement made his position clear—between Michelle and the Sorelli family, he chose us.

Seeing this, representatives of the other three major families also had people help organize and recount the property.

The Soldati at the scene kept their heads down, carefully picking up scattered boxes, their movements gentle, afraid of breaking anything else.

A Caporegime picked up a wooden drawer, and his movement suddenly paused.

It belonged to an intricately crafted antique vanity that my mother had bought for her wedding. Under the accidentally broken drawer was a hidden compartment, and something had fallen out of it.

The Caporegime suddenly turned to look at me, his pupils contracting slightly, his face showing an extremely strange expression—both shocked and doubtful.

I blinked, looking at him in confusion.