Chapter 90: The First Frost

Violet's POV

Within seconds, hands shot up across the audience.

"I'm a computer science professor," a man in the third row called out.

"Network security consultant," added a man near the back.

They were invited to the stage. Then Goli's people stepped forward—two specialists in crisp suits who had been standing off to the side.

The three parties took seats at a temporary workstation beside the main screen. The venue fell silent, the kind of silence where you could hear fabric rustling and breath catching.

Bethany's face had gone pale as death. Her body trembled visibly. She looked toward Goli like someone grasping at a lifeline, but all she got in return was a cold, dismissive glance.

I watched, curious to see which way he would jump—loyalty to Bethany or self-preservation.

The minutes crawled by.

Finally, the experts conferred briefly, nodding to one another.

The older professor picked up the microphone, his voice carrying across the room with absolute certainty. "After conducting joint technical analysis and cross-verification, we can confirm that this surveillance footage shows no evidence of synthesis, tampering, or post-production editing of any kind."

"No!" Bethany's voice cracked into a shriek. "You're lying! Violet paid you off! All of you!"

I kept my expression calm, letting a small smile touch my lips. "So you're accusing law enforcement of corruption?"

I turned to Goli. "Mr. Francis, this woman just publicly accused me of bribing police consultants. What's your take on that?"

"The evidence speaks for itself." Goli's face had gone dark. He looked at Bethany like she was something scraped off his shoe. "What's done is done, Ms. Vasquez. If you continue making defamatory statements, you can come with me to the station right now. We will have a very thorough conversation."

His meaning was perfectly clear—he was cutting her loose.

Bethany's hands balled into fists so tight her knuckles went white. Blood welled where her teeth had cut into her lower lip.

The head organizer stepped forward, his voice ringing with finality. "Due to Ms. Vasquez's severe violation of competition rules, her participation is hereby terminated and all results nullified. This matter will be reported to relevant academic and professional organizations, and we reserve the right to pursue legal action."

He paused, then turned toward me. "As for Ms. Chambers… despite deliberate sabotage of her materials, she demonstrated exceptional professional skill, composure under pressure, and unwavering integrity. After final deliberation, the judging panel awards Violet Chambers first place in this year's International Heritage Restoration Championship!"

Applause thundered through the hall.

The moment the ceremony ended, I made my exit.

I had barely reached the door when I spotted Goli leaning against the wall. When he saw me, he straightened and walked over. "Congratulations, Violet."

I let out a soft laugh. "Mr. Francis. I should thank you for your impartial handling of the situation."

I put extra weight on that last word.

Goli's smile froze.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something.

Then a low, ice-cold voice cut through the air behind me. "Get in the car."

I turned.

Through the window, Clifford's face looked carved in stone.

I walked past Goli without another word and climbed into the passenger seat.

Goli's gaze lingered, tracking between me and Clifford, until Clifford raised the window with a decisive press of the button.

The car pulled away.

I glanced at Clifford, his silence filling the space like a physical presence. I carefully set the trophy and certificate on the seat beside me, trying to inject some lightness into my voice. "Clifford, I won first place…"

"Congratulations."

There was more in what he said than the words themselves.

Every word I had prepared died in my throat.

The air was thick enough to choke.

I pressed my lips together, knowing I was in the wrong. I reached out and tugged gently at his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Clifford.

"I shouldn't have lied to you. I shouldn't have left without telling you. But I had to go. I couldn't just run from those rumors."

Clifford did not respond. It was like I hadn't spoken at all.

I twisted my fingers together, anxiety tightening in my chest.

The drive stretched on in suffocating silence.

I kept stealing glances at him.

His jaw was locked tight, his entire body radiating barely contained fury that warned everyone to stay away.

The car turned into the estate and stopped in front of the main house.

Clifford got out first. He did not open my door like he usually did. He just walked straight inside.

I scrambled after him.

The staff took one look at the atmosphere and scattered, heads down, eyes averted.

In the living room, Clifford finally stopped, his back to me.

His shoulders were rigid, like he was holding back an explosion.

"Are you hungry?" I ventured.

He spun around.

Those eyes that were usually so gentle now churned with barely contained fury.

"Violet Chambers." He used my full name, his voice low and strained. "I told you not to go to that competition. Did you think I was just making conversation?"

"I'm sorry. I know I messed up…"

I wrapped my hands around his clenched fist. "Please don't be angry."

He looked down at me, his teeth gritted. "Violet, do you think that because I'm usually lenient with you, you can just ignore what I say?"

"No, I was prepared, I—"

"Prepared?!" Clifford's voice rose, sharp with disbelief. "Your preparation was getting someone to impersonate you, then sneaking off in a different car to a place where I could not protect you?"

Seeing his eyes redden with anger and worry made guilt crash over me in waves.

I knew he was this furious because he had been terrified for me.

I dropped my gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

"Do you think you're invincible?" His voice was harsh now, cutting.

"No…"

"Do you resent me for trying to keep you safe?"

"No…"

"Violet…" He bit out my name like it tasted bitter. For a moment, it seemed like he had more to say, but instead, he just exhaled sharply. "You have really opened my eyes."

He pushed past me, heading for the door.

I reached for him, but he sensed it coming and stepped out of range before I could touch him.

"Clifford, where are you going?"

"Headquarters. There is business to handle."

"When will you be back?"

"When I am done."

"Clifford… I really am sorry…"

"I know." His voice was flat, emotionless. "But right now, I need space."

I opened my mouth, but no words came.

He walked past me and out the door.

The sound of it closing felt like something vital being ripped out of my chest.