Chapter 340

Chapter 340

"I'll let him know exactly what you said," Christopher replied decisively.

I nodded, though worry still clouded my expression.

I've never been good at hiding my emotions, especially around Paula and Christopher, so he spotted my concern immediately.

Without thinking, he reached over and ruffled my hair. "Don't worry too much. Even if they eventually go their separate ways, Idris will handle things properly."

His palm was large and slightly dry against my scalp, but it spread a surprising warmth through me. I felt my ears turning red despite myself.

The intimate atmosphere that had just subsided seemed to resurface between us.

Christopher casually withdrew his hand, acting as if nothing had happened.

Feeling flustered, my voice came out slightly muffled. "Handle things how? I'd just be grateful if Quinlan doesn't end up heartbroken over this whole thing."

My concern wasn't unfounded. Idris hadn't become a top celebrity for nothing—his looks were exceptional. A decent guy with star power, striking good looks, and presumably some wealth... what woman wouldn't fall for someone like that? Especially someone like Quinlan, who was sensitive and insecure. If she became too attached, she'd be the one suffering in the end.

Christopher studied me with an intense gaze. "How do you know Idris won't be the one who falls hard?"

My eyes brightened. "Well, that would be different!"

Christopher's gaze narrowed slightly, and I could feel his emotions shifting. The tension between us threatened to spill over again.

I quickly averted my eyes, pretending not to notice.

Thankfully, we arrived at the office, and after heading upstairs with Christopher, I hurried back to my workstation.

Shortly after, the receptionist approached my desk. "Ms. Turner, a delivery came for you while you were out. I signed for it." She handed me an elegantly wrapped box.

It had to be from Bobby again. Why couldn't he take a hint? This was getting ridiculous.

Sometimes I really couldn't understand people like him. Everyone knew he was engaged, and given my friendship with Paula, I was particularly aware of the situation. Where did he get the confidence to keep sending gifts? Did he actually think I'd be impressed by expensive presents? That tired old tactic wasn't going to work on me.

I wasn't particularly materialistic, and I had enough money in my account that I didn't need to be bought. The more I thought about it, the more irritated I became, and my expression darkened.

My colleague noticed my reaction and immediately realized her mistake. "I'm sorry, Ms. Turner. I shouldn't have accepted it without asking you first. Next time I'll check with you before signing."

I appreciated her sincere apology. It wasn't her fault—the blame lay with someone else entirely. Besides, she had no way of knowing why I disliked receiving these gifts.

"There won't be a next time. Let's solve this permanently—call the police," I said firmly.

My colleague looked surprised at the mention of police involvement, unaware of the harassment I'd been experiencing. Seeing I wasn't joking, she quickly nodded in agreement.

What I hadn't expected was Christopher's sudden appearance. He'd come to discuss something about Dwayne, but his sharp eyes immediately landed on the unopened box on my desk.

Almost instinctively, I tried to hide the box under my desk, my hands moving faster than my thoughts.

Christopher noticed my reaction, his gaze deepening, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he moved straight to business.

Following his instructions, I had politely declined Dwayne Larson's requests to meet with Christopher three times now.

"Mr. Larson seems to be getting desperate," I added. "He's reached out to Mr. Stevens, probably trying to gauge our position through him."

Everything was unfolding exactly as Christopher had anticipated. I had to admit, his mind worked on a different level. Next to him, I was little more than a pawn on his chessboard—he always seemed to be several moves ahead, no matter what. The distance between us? It felt insurmountable.

Christopher remained composed about this predictable development. "If Mr. Larson tries to schedule another meeting, there's no rush. Harold has some useful information now."

My eyes lit up at the mention of concrete news from Harold.

"As we suspected, the person who was drained of blood was the real Hayes. Harold has gone to the orphanage to compare photographs," Christopher confirmed.

His answer matched my expectations, but confirming a death never brought joy, even when it validated our theory.

"So what happens next? Shouldn't Harold and the case detective question Marlowe? She was probably the last person to see the real Hayes alive," I suggested.

I didn't want to make unfair assumptions about Marlowe, but the facts were troubling. Her brother had clearly died under suspicious circumstances, yet she'd managed to live normally for years. After what she'd done to Quinlan and me, it was hard to see her as innocent.

Christopher nodded. "Yes, once they have definitive evidence, they'll come to Starlight City to interrogate her. But she has remarkable psychological fortitude—it won't be easy to get answers quickly."

The fact that Marlowe had kept this secret for so many years, even from when she was young, revealed how calculating she was. Someone like that wouldn't crack easily.

"Still, if there's evidence after all these years, it will come to light if she's involved," I said with conviction.

I believed this firmly. Just like when Lawrence deceived me—no matter how carefully he had constructed his web of lies, there were gaps. I discovered the truth and brought him to justice.

"Whether she's connected to Hayes's death remains to be seen," Christopher said. "Harold and I think there are two possibilities: either she was threatened alongside the real Hayes but managed to escape, or she was an accomplice."

I leaned toward the second theory. If she had been threatened, she wouldn't have built such a high-profile career as a magazine editor. She clearly wasn't afraid of exposure. And she hadn't shown any grief over losing her brother, let alone sought revenge.

Her behavior aligned more with being an accomplice than a victim.

"Don't worry though. With the psychologist and Jason working with the police, it shouldn't take long to get the truth out of her," Christopher assured me.

Our interest in the case was largely because of Hayes. We needed to resolve this before Marlowe's appointed guardian came to collect him.

After briefing me, Christopher left. Fortunately, my workload was light; otherwise, I wouldn't have had the mental space to consider how to make Marlowe confess.

Marlowe was hiding multiple secrets and had guarded them well—that took skill. But she was clearly selfish. People like her valued self-preservation above all. She needed a bone marrow transplant of a rare blood type, incredibly difficult to find. Yet despite her condition, she wouldn't reveal the real Hayes's whereabouts, probably because she knew he was already dead.

Why keep that secret for so many years? Something wasn't right.

But I couldn't dwell on it any longer because news came in that Paula was in trouble.