Chapter 732:
“Wait!” Phil cut in. “Got some gossip for you.”
Brad responded, “What?”
“About your soon-to-be sister-in-law, Kristen,” Phil began, his tone serious, “I ran a check on her facial data. There’s no record of her ever entering Eshea legally. She slipped in without proper papers. Normally, every Eshean airport is tightly monitored. I also traced the flight they took to Crolens. She did get off the plane with your brother’s family. Someone at immigration cleared her passage on purpose. Without top-level approval and a hefty payoff, no one would dare take that risk.”
Brad’s eyes narrowed, his mind working quickly. “Did you look into her bank accounts?”
“There’s nothing under her name,” Phil replied. “But your brother brought home assets from abroad, and all of them check out. They come from trust funds and legitimate income. Nothing suspicious.”
Brad gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Nothing suspicious? That’s what makes it suspicious. Keep digging.”
Phil gave a curt nod. “Understood.”
The following day, Brad returned to the Morgan mansion. The butler handed him an invitation from the Owens.
Brad opened it and called after the butler before he could leave. “At these types of balls, do the main guests usually have to dance?”
The butler paused, turned, and gave a respectful nod. “Yes. Especially someone like Miss Owen. Many gentlemen will likely compete to dance with her.”
Gentlemen competing to dance with her? The thought made Brad’s face turn cold. “Find me a dance instructor.”
The butler blinked, startled. “A dance instructor, sir?”
Brad lifted the invitation slightly. “Yes. I’m going to dance at this ball. Do I need to say it again?”
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“No, sir,” the butler said quickly. “I’ll have one ready for you by tonight.”
Brad gave a short nod, satisfied. “Good.”
The day of the Owens’ homecoming banquet for Rylie arrived.
The Owen estate glowed under a canopy of lights, its grandeur on full display. The marble floors gleamed beneath the glow of crystal chandeliers, reflecting the swirl of gowns and crisp tuxedos as guests mingled.
The air was a blend of champagne bubbles, perfume, and polite laughter. Behind the smiles and small talk, sharp eyes studied one another, measuring status and weighing every move.
Most of the guests had shown up not only to honor the Owens, but also to satisfy their curiosity about the so-called Owen family daughter. Rylie’s name had circulated widely online, her reputation both admired and gossiped about.
A young woman who had been missing for years had suddenly returned and was being treated to a grand homecoming. Whispers rippled through the crowd — who was she really?
A few women who had met her before spoke in glowing terms, praising her wit and poise. They called her a gifted doctor and said she had a rare charm that drew people to her.
The steady stream of compliments stirred a mix of envy and unease among the younger women.
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