This level of persistence wasn’t random-it was calculated.
Matias’ lips twitched in satisfaction. Finally, Nate was making his move. Keeping his expression neutral, he gave a short nod.
“Understood.”
As he reached the door, he unexpectedly crossed paths with an incoming group.
The middle-aged man leading the group strode in confidently, his jacket slightly ruffled from the brisk walk. Several individuals followed close behind him, including Waldo. Thanks to the swarm of sensationalist reporters, the situation had spiraled, drawing in people who had no business being involved.
“Excuse me, please,” one of the newcomers said.
Matias hesitated for a split second before stepping aside to clear the way. The group entered, and the man at the forefront spoke in a steady, authoritative voice.
“I’m here to testify on her behalf.”
Nate’s sharp gaze darkened slightly as he assessed the man who had just walked in. Then, his eyes flickered toward Corrine, and the faintest hint of amusement curled at the corner of his lips. So that was why she had been so unshaken. She had been holding a trump card all along.
Standing to the side, Arion felt his pulse quicken as yet another powerhouse figure entered the scene. Had it not been for Corrine’s unexpected entanglement in this case, he-an ordinary police chief-would never have witnessed such a gathering of influential people in his lifetime.
Snapping out of his daze, Arion wiped the dampness from his palms and hurriedly stepped forward, forcing a polite smile.
“Mr. Avila, what brings you here for something so… minor?”
Cleaveland Avila let out a low chuckle.
“This is no minor issue.”
A whisper rippled through the crowd.
“Who is that guy?”
“No clue, but from the way he’s dressed, he’s clearly not someone to cross.”
“Not just him. This room is filled with big shots!”
“Let’s just sit tight and see how this plays out.”
The crowd murmured in hushed tones before Cleaveland’s voice cut through the tension.
“I have the evidence you need.”
He gave a subtle nod to Edna Scott, who stepped forward and handed a thick brown envelope to the reporters. The moment they saw the red official seal stamped across it, hesitation flickered across their faces. It suddenly felt as if they were holding a scorching piece of coal.
The reporters exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to be the first to open it, as if the contents inside were classified secrets that could land them in trouble. Wilbur, though unfamiliar with Cleaveland, quickly grasped his significance just by observing Arion’s deferential stance. His fists clenched slightly, and he inhaled deeply.
Now was not the time to lose composure or look like someone out of his depth. Yet, the weight of his earlier misjudgment of Corrine made his knees feel alarmingly weak.
Cleaveland’s gaze swept across the gathered reporters, his expression grave.
“Miss Holland is not a suspect. She is a top-tier restoration specialist and a valued special consultant to our department.”
He let the statement sink in before his tone turned sharper, more commanding.
“I don’t know who is behind this deliberate attempt to stir chaos, but given the gravity of the situation, rest assured-we will launch a full investigation, and those responsible will be held accountable.”
When the head of the cultural relic department finished speaking, a stunned silence fell over the room. Even Edna, who had been following behind, found herself momentarily speechless.
When she first joined the department, she had heard whispers of an enigmatic expert in cultural relic appraisal and repair. The master appraiser’s keen eyes could detect authenticity in an instant. A brilliant mind who could unravel the very techniques used to forge counterfeits.
Three years ago, this same individual had even collaborated with law enforcement to crack a high-profile smuggling ring. But above all, what set this person apart was their unparalleled relic restoration skills-an artistry so rare, it was nearly mythical.
Legends often carried an air of mystery, and Edna had spent years speculating about what this expert might look like. Perhaps a wise elder with silver hair, spectacles perched on the bridge of their nose, exuding meticulous precision in every movement. Or maybe a reclusive scholar, someone shrouded in mystery, rarely seen but widely revered. Never-not even in her wildest imaginings-had she expected the expert to be a young woman.
The reporters, too, were left utterly dumbfounded.
The revelation had blindsided them, leaving their preconceived notions shattered.
Leah’s gaze was fixed on her phone’s screen, anger etching her features as the live broadcast unfolded.
To her astonishment, the head of the cultural relic department had intervened directly to clear Corrine’s name.
It was even more shocking to learn that Corrine was not only a top-tier restoration specialist but also served as a special consultant for the cultural relic department. How was this possible?
Corrine was just a simple country girl, wasn’t she?
How had she quickly risen to become a prominent figure within both the CBP and the cultural relic department?
Leah was further taken aback when Waldo took a stand against the media during the broadcast.
“I’m here to clear the false accusations against Miss Corrine Holland,” Waldo said firmly, adjusting his glasses as he faced the press.
“We will take legal action against those who spread lies about her, and everyone involved in this defamation during the live session will be held accountable. We will not back down in our pursuit of justice.”
He carried an aura of grace and honesty, speaking calmly with no hint of aggression. Yet, each word was as sharp as a dagger.
The media reporters went pale at his words.
Waldo’s formidable reputation was well-known among them.
With his flawless record and sharp legal skills, he was someone everyone feared.
Challenging him had always resulted in crushing defeats for his rivals, a testament to his skill.
His involvement was the strongest move to silence the relentless journalists.
This time, Corrine had completely flipped the script.
Even after the broadcast ended, the buzz persisted, with heated debates lighting up online forums.
Unexpectedly, the unforeseen continued to unfold.
As the online community engaged in heated discussions, the website suddenly became inaccessible. Keywords associated with “Corrine” were unexpectedly banned. Everyone online quickly realized that Corrine Holland was not someone to be underestimated.
Leah, seated in her vehicle, watched as the broadcast concluded, her gaze heavy with deep resentment and frustration. Why did success always seem just out of reach? Her well-laid plans had been on the brink of fruition, yet they unraveled at the most crucial moment.
Anger simmered within her as she struck the steering wheel repeatedly in a fit of rage.
At that moment, her phone began to ring.
Leah picked up, and the caller on the line made a straightforward demand for payment.
“Miss Burgess, ensure the funds are transferred on time, or we will be compelled to expose the truth.”
These maneuvers against Corrine had been orchestrated by Leah herself.
Leah had never expected Corrine to take legal action against the journalists. In their line of work, such declarations were typically mere threats, but Corrine meant business.
The caller, growing impatient with Leah’s silence, issued another warning.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.