Chapter 95: The Destroyed Studio
“Mrs. Green,” Kevin said, “Some problems require a thorough cleaning, or they won’t go away. Today’s evidence could only achieve this much, but this is not the end.”
Evelyn unclenched her fists, leaving four bloody crescent marks on her palm. She looked up at Kevin, the despair in her eyes slowly replaced by a grim resolve born from utter silence.
“I know,” she said. “Thank you, Kevin. And please thank Mr. Lawrence for me.”
She turned the wheelchair, facing away from the direction Damian had gone.
“Sophie, let’s go.” Evelyn couldn’t stay any longer. The anesthesia on her arm was wearing off, and the pain was returning.
Sophie understood and asked no more questions. She wheeled Evelyn out, driving them toward the studio she had recently rented outside the city.
“Let’s go to the studio. It’s quiet there,” Sophie said, gripping the steering wheel. “You need to rest. I need to cool down before I drive back and murder those two bastards.”
Evelyn leaned against the passenger seat. She watched the rain-streaked scenery fly by and gave a quiet nod.
Half an hour later, the car stopped outside an old but artistic red brick building. The rain had stopped, but the air was cold and damp. Sophie helped Evelyn out, then fumbled with the keys.
Click.
The lock opened, and an acrid smell rushed out—a mix of rot, mildew, and paint thinner. Sophie flipped the light switch.
The next second, both of them froze.
“Oh my God…” Sophie covered her mouth.
The studio, which had been clean and organized, looked like it had been hit by a tornado. The walls were covered in red spray paint with vile words: “Whore,” “Copier,” “Die,” “Trash.” The messy strokes looked like streaks of blood, shocking and alarming. The desk was overturned. Evelyn’s precious design sketches were shredded, scattered among garbage and mud. In the corner, a pile of trash held several dead, mutilated rats, the stench nauseating.
“Ugh—” Evelyn’s stomach churned. She felt sick and dry-heaved. This was her last sanctuary, the place where she was reclaiming her dream. Now it was ruined.
“Who did this?! Who did this!” Sophie rushed in, trying to gather the shredded paper, realizing they were beyond repair.
Just then, Evelyn’s phone vibrated incessantly, the notifications cutting through the silence. Evelyn slid open the screen with a trembling finger. A flood of push notifications appeared.
Ten minutes ago, Sienna had posted an article on social media. The image showed her raw, scratched arm. Another was a pitiful hospital selfie. The text was heartbreaking.
[I am truly disheartened. I have always respected her as an elder, but because the Omni Group deal was secured, her jealousy drove her to madness.]
[She not only deliberately provoked my dog, causing it to be terrified and kicked, but she has also continually bullied me at the company. Now my hand is like this, I may be scarred for life. How can I draw now… But I won't blame anyone. I just hope some people can leave me alone and find peace for themselves.]
The post “accidentally” tagged Evelyn.
The comment section was already flooded with hate. Netizens who didn't know the truth believed Sienna and were attacking Evelyn.
[Oh my god, this Mrs. Green is vicious! She couldn't get the deal, so she took it out on a dog?]
[Constant bullying? Why hasn’t this woman been arrested?]
[I heard she's a habitual plagiarist. Did she steal her old designs too?]
[This wicked bitch should just die!]
Every comment felt like a knife twisting in Evelyn’s heart. Some had even doxxed the studio address, commenting that they had already "taught her a lesson."
Evelyn looked at the chaos in the room and the vicious curses on her phone. She felt dizzy. Sienna wasn't just trying to ruin her body; she was trying to ruin her reputation and destroy her last refuge.
“Evelyn, don’t look! Stop looking!” Sophie rushed to grab the phone. “We’re calling the police! Right now!”
“What’s the use of calling the police?” Evelyn’s voice was faint, barely a whisper. “The police were right there at the hospital, and what happened? Lillian took the fall, and Sienna became the victim. Now the internet hates me, my studio is destroyed. Calling the police will only make Damian intervene again, suppress the issue, and mock my incompetence.”
Sophie was stunned. “Then what do we do? We can’t just let this go!”
Evelyn looked at the dead rats in the corner, the stench making her feel nauseous again. But her eyes slowly changed. The despair vanished, replaced by a frightening, cold resolve.
She looked down, placing her hand gently on her abdomen. There was a life inside her. For the baby, and for herself, she couldn't hide or run. Since nowhere outside was safe, since she had no safe harbor…
“Sophie, take me back.” Evelyn looked up, past the destruction, toward the dark night outside.
Sophie paused. “Back? Back where? The hospital?”
“No.” Evelyn gripped the door frame. “Back to Damian’s mansion.”
“Are you crazy?” Sophie shrieked. “Damian wants to kill you, and Sienna is playing the victim! You’re walking into a trap!”
“The most dangerous place might be the safest.” Evelyn explained. “Sienna is playing the poor, innocent victim online. If I return now, Damian won’t dare to overtly hurt me, even if it's just to protect his public image. Besides…”
Evelyn looked at the shredded sketches. “Damian still needs me to maintain the facade of a loving couple. The people who attacked this studio were too scared to touch the mansion.”
“Let’s go.” Evelyn turned, not looking back at the ruined studio. “I can’t stay here, and I don’t want to drag you and Ethan into this mess anymore. This is the best option.”