Chapter 1031:
To him, Rylie’s calm opposition was just a futile, childish stunt.
Tonight, his plan was simple: publicly humiliate her, force her to admit Detour Inc. belonged to him, and coerce her into renouncing her inheritance.
“Dear Rylie, my niece, you really should apologize to me,” Terrance said, hands pressed to his chest, voice smooth, almost coaxing. “My wife may have wronged you in some way, but I’ve done nothing wrong, right? Are you really going to throw your family’s influence around just to bully someone like me—an ordinary middle-aged man who’s been breaking his back for his household?”
His performance was flawless—heartfelt, measured, the kind that tugged at sympathetic strings. And it worked. Around him, heads nodded, murmurs of agreement rippling through the crowd. Yet beyond the handful of shareholders and Detour Inc. executives brave—or foolish—enough to challenge Rylie, no one dared speak.
After all, everyone fell ill eventually; it was far safer to risk offending a businessman than a doctor, especially when that doctor was the famed Healing Hand, whispered about in the corridors of every hospital and clinic.
Rylie met Terrance’s theatrics with a calm that only sharpened her words. “Uncle Terrance, everything you’re doing is for Detour Inc.—and so am I. I came here today and found plenty of porcelain shards still scattered around.”
“That’s hardly unusual,” Terrance shot back. “This place used to be a porcelain factory. Everyone knows that.”
“Sure,” Rylie countered, “but some of what’s lying around isn’t just factory leftovers. These pieces are from century-old relics—probably dug up when the old factory expanded years ago.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the small porcelain fragment she’d picked up during her earlier visit with Brad, the moment they realized something wasn’t right.
The second she held up the shard, several government officials at the ceremony turned their heads.
The Terra Games venue was a massive project, and even a hint of trouble could derail everything.
𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“Miss Owen, are you implying there’s an ancient tomb site underneath?” one official asked, stepping forward.
Rylie didn’t nod. She simply spoke with quiet certainty. “I can’t say for sure. But there’s a strong possibility.”
That single line was enough to send a chill through Terrance and every Detour executive in earshot. If the government stepped in, the final decision about the venue wouldn’t be in their hands anymore.
Terrance barked out a laugh, thin and desperate. “Since when did you become an archaeology expert, Rylie? You don’t even have a certification.” After signaling Coen not to take her seriously, he shoved himself back into the spotlight, his tone dripping with condescension.
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