Chapter 742:
Patrick had expected to stir trouble for the banquet at Laurel’s request, never imagining the military would intervene. To him, this was a family feud. Now it had become something far more dangerous.
“Why am I being named a suspect?” he demanded, his voice sharp with panic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Is that so?” Brad’s mouth curved into a faint smirk. “Reports suggest you’ve been shielding locals connected to a trafficking network.”
Certain his plan was flawless, Patrick snapped back, “I would never protect such criminals. Among those you’ve taken are the elderly, children, and mentally vulnerable women. You cannot force false confessions from them.”
Brad’s reply was calm but firm. “Exactly. Which is why I ensured your wife is now under the care of a hypnotist and therapist. Her memory is being restored. Evidence will speak for itself.”
Patrick’s chest tightened. He had been sure every thread in Malvren was cut, every witness silenced, the disguised tourists watched. But this… this was a trap.
Lucilla was in their hands now? If they had Lucilla, then this was no longer about trafficking. They were reaching for something deeper.
Patrick’s gaze darted to Laurel, panic clamping tight in his chest. They were dredging up that old murder-for-hire case.
If Lucilla regained her memories and revealed the truth, everyone involved — including his entire family — would face dire consequences.
“How convenient,” Deandre said, his tone laced with icy amusement. “My sister’s medical skill is unmatched — perfect for this case.”
“Indeed,” another guest added. “Mr. Carter always treats Miss Owen with respect. That alone shows how crucial she is. No wonder Admiral Morgan chose her.”
“It looks like this was all a misunderstanding after all. Miss Owen isn’t a kidnapper at all.”
Step into a new world at gαℓησν𝒆ℓs․cøm
Through it all, Rylie remained calm, her composure a clear sign she had anticipated every step of Brad’s plan.
The crowd’s opinion shifted, their whispers carrying a new weight.
“In hindsight, Mrs. Owen’s remarks earlier seem… revealing.”
“Are they playing the victim? That dye factory is her business, and the Malvren headman is tied to its manager…”
“Quiet! Do you want to bring trouble on yourself?”
Their hushed suspicions struck Laurel harder than open insults, threatening the careful composure she had worked so hard to maintain.
Heat rose in Laurel’s cheeks, not from shame but from the fear that everything she had plotted was crumbling, threatening to turn against her instead.
She forced her shoulders back, arranging her face into a stiff mask of confusion, as though she were just as startled and innocent as anyone else caught in this sudden turn.
She could not expose herself now, not when everything hung in the balance. Laurel sucked in a breath, her voice trembling with outrage and disbelief. “All these years, I thought Malvren was safe and peaceful, and yet such filth still festers? I’ve spent so much effort helping those trafficked women, and Patrick has stood by me every step. And now you’re suggesting he’s involved? I refuse to believe it. How could that be?”
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