Chapter 164 The Midnight Tape

Chapter 164 The Midnight Tape
"You can't go there right now, miss," the maid said, stepping directly in front of the bedroom door.

Chloe gripped her purse straps. "Why not?"

"The arena is locked down for preparation," the maid explained, keeping her hands folded over her dark apron. "They're running sound checks and checking the stage gear for tonight. Nobody gets past the gates except the main organizers and his direct crew."

Chloe stopped. Her bare feet felt cold against the polished hardwood floor. She needed to look Zarik in the face and clear the air, but showing up at a locked gate without a crew pass would only leave her stranded on the sidewalk.

She reached for the glass on the side table and drank the water in three fast gulps. The cold liquid hit her empty stomach, triggering a loud rumble that broke the quiet of the room.

A faint smile touched the maid's face. "You're hungry."

"I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon," Chloe admitted, pressing her palm against her ribs.

"Sit tight," the maid said, turning toward the hallway. "I'll have the kitchen prepare something for you right away."

Chloe sank back onto the edge of the mattress. The pounding in her head had settled into a dull ache, but the knot in her chest remained tight. She checked her phone again, hoping for a callback, but the screen stayed blank.

A few minutes later, the maid returned to the doorway and gestured down the hall. "Your breakfast is ready, miss."

Chloe pulled on the slippers provided near the dresser. She adjusted the silk loungewear around her shoulders before stepping into the open corridor.

They walked down a wide staircase and turned into a massive dining hall lined with tall marble pillars and crystal lights. A dark mahogany table stretched across the center of the room, set with polished silver cutlery and steaming dishes of eggs, toast, and fruit.

Chloe slowed her steps, taking in the high ceiling and the gold trim along the walls. "Does he really own all of this?"

The maid pulled out a high-backed chair. "Would you like to know a secret?"

Chloe pulled the chair in and sat down. "Go ahead."

"Master Zarik is famous, but music didn't buy this estate," the maid whispered, setting a cloth napkin on the table.

Chloe picked up her silver fork. "What do you mean?"

"His parents were very wealthy," the maid said, keeping her voice low. "They passed away years ago, but they left behind a large fortune. This house is just one of many properties he inherited from them."

Chloe paused with her fork hovering over a plate of eggs. Zarik had mentioned losing his parents during one of their late-night drives, but he had never talked about money or family assets. He lived simply whenever they were together, driving an ordinary sedan and wearing plain shirts.

The pieces suddenly fell into place.

Now she understood how Zarik's older brother could throw money around at the Jade Pavilion without blinking. Lucy's manager wasn't living off an agent's commission. He was spending a massive family inheritance.

She stabbed a piece of sausage, shaking her head. The man was a creep who probably took the manager job just to hang around attractive actresses and use his family's wealth as leverage.

"Eat before the food gets cold, miss," the maid reminded her, stepping back toward the wall.

Chloe chewed quickly, her eyes drifting to the large flat screen mounted on the wall above the sideboard. "Is his rehearsal playing on any of the local channels?"

"No," the maid answered. "They don't broadcast practice runs."

"Just put on the morning news, then," Chloe said, cutting another piece of meat.

The maid picked up the remote and clicked the power button. The screen flashed to life, tuning straight into the main regional broadcast.

A news anchor sat behind a sleek desk, his face grim under the bright studio lights.

"We begin with breaking developments from the Capital," the anchor announced. "Julian Pierce, the former heir to the Pierce family, was found dead in an undisclosed residence early this morning."

Chloe stopped chewing.

"This report follows yesterday's public announcement by Patriarch Pierce, who officially stripped Julian of his titles and cast him out of the family registry," the anchor continued. "Authorities suspect a targeted assassination, though no group has claimed responsibility."

Chloe set her cup of tea down with a soft click. "Something isn't right."

The string of violent deaths across the upper tier made no sense. First the Vance Patriarch died in a bloodbath at his home, then the Cross Patriarch crashed at the border, followed by Vincent Frost's ambush on the highway, and now Julian Pierce. The city's top families were getting wiped out one by one, and the police had zero answers.

She took another bite of toast, watching the screen as the graphic changed.

"In entertainment news, a major shock has hit the local music industry," the anchor reported, his tone shifting into urgent excitement. "Pop star Zarik's sold-out arena performance scheduled for tonight has been abruptly canceled."

Chloe dropped her bread onto the plate.

"Organizers pulled the event minutes ago, triggering furious backlash from thousands of fans demanding immediate ticket refunds," the anchor stated.

A live shot of the central arena filled the screen. Crowds of angry people were shouting at the closed glass gates, waving banners and pounding on the doors while security guards pushed them back.

Social media platforms exploded with millions of angry comments calling for a total boycott of the artist and his management agency.

Chloe leaned forward, her pulse quickening. Zarik lived for his concerts. He loved his fans and would never cancel a major arena show over a minor issue.

"The cancellation comes directly after severe criminal allegations were filed against the singer early this morning," the anchor announced. "Zarik stands accused of rape and sexual assault."

"What?" Chloe gasped, rising an inch off her seat.

"Surveillance footage from outside a downtown establishment has just leaked online," the anchor said.

The screen cut to grainy, black-and-white video from a street camera. The digital timestamp in the top corner read 12:49 AM.

The clip showed Zarik walking down a back alley, his face clear under a streetlamp. His arms were wrapped tightly around a limp woman whose head hung across his shoulder. Her black dress was torn, her legs dragging against the concrete as he forced her into the back seat of his car.

Chloe's grip went slack.

Her silver fork slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly against the porcelain plate.