LOGIN"What you remember… is no longer important."Isolde knew Ezra had already chosen the most euphemistic phrasing possible. She could easily imagine the internet flooded with a torrential wave of insults, the malice of keyboard warriors, the outrage of an uninformed public, and the narrative her competitors would be quick to shape.In the public eye, she was likely already a heinous, cold-blooded wealthy woman who treated human life as worthless. If Bruce's bodyguards were not shielding her, people would probably be throwing eggs and splashing paint on her, even as she lay in bed."This video is a forgery. Find the best technical team and conduct an appraisal immediately!" Isolde instructed."Ms. Vancrest, the moment I received the video, I contacted several top domestic and international experts for technical appraisal." Erza paused, his voice dry. "The feedback from all teams, after analysis using the highest-specification methods currently available, shows no traces of splicing, ta
At the municipal funeral home…After the staff cleared it out, the space felt stark and hollow, enough to make the heart palpitate.Pale lights spilled from above, glinting off the mirror-like marble floor with a cold luster. The air carried a faint trace of disinfectant and an eerie, indescribable silence.A chill rose from the soles of Isolde's feet and climbed up her spine to the top of her head. She moved closer to Bruce without thinking.He rested a hand on her shoulder and patted her gently in comfort."I'll uncover it," he said in a low voice.On the cart before them lay a solemn white cloth, its contours outlining the shape of a human body."No need…" Isolde drew a steady breath. "I'll do it myself."She moved forward like someone walking toward an execution ground, yet also like someone advancing to face a truth she had to confront alone.Each step felt slow and heavy. The sharp click of her heels echoed through the silent room, unnaturally clear.She stopped at the
"Does it hurt?" Bruce asked.Isolde froze for a moment. The familiar scent on him reached her, and the tension stretched tight inside her gave way by a fraction.She lifted her stiff arms and clutched the fabric of his suit at his waist, as if it were the only piece of driftwood in a violent storm."Hubby... they said... I killed someone with my car..." She looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion and fear. "But... I don't remember hitting anyone. I really didn't..."Her words came faster and faster, as she tried to pull a clear image from the chaos in her mind to prove herself. The harder she tried, the more her temples throbbed.She raised a hand to her head. Her fingertips brushed the wound beneath the gauze. Pain shot through her, and she sucked in a sharp breath. The turmoil in her mind deepened."The doctor and the police said I might have been affected by the shock of the impact. They said it could have confused my memory or caused temporary loss, that I might not reme
A commotion broke out at the edge of the crowd."It's the Prince! Bruce Princeton is here!" someone shouted, and every gaze snapped toward the entrance.Bruce appeared in a sharp black suit, his expression cold as ice as he strode forward.A chilling aura surrounded him, warning others to keep their distance. Wherever he passed, the dense crowd parted on instinct to form a path.The reporters reacted like sharks that had scented blood. They pivoted at once and surged forward."Prince, regarding your wife, Ms. Vancrest, hitting someone with her car and evading responsibility, do you have any explanation?""Mr. Princeton, the party at fault refuses to admit their mistake, and the victim's family is in emotional distress. Will you offer compensation and an apology on your wife's behalf?""Prince, does this reflect the privileged class' disregard for the law? How do you intend to calm public anger?"Their sharp, overlapping questions fell like torrential rain.Bruce had no choice
Isolde knew Bruce was waiting for her to come home for dinner.A trace of unease flickered in his chest. He pulled out his phone, tapped her pinned contact, and dialed.It rang three times, then the call disconnected automatically, and a mechanical female voice filled the line. "The number you have dialed is not available at the moment. Please try again later."Bruce's eyes darkened, like storm clouds gathering.He dialed again, but there was still no answer.The unease sharpened, tightening around his heart like cold vines.Isolde would not ignore his calls, especially when she knew he was waiting.'Something happened.' The thought struck him with sudden clarity.Bruce turned on his heel and strode toward the garage, pressing his earpiece as he moved, his voice cold. "Locate Isolde's whereabouts immediately. Fast.""Yes, Prince."At the same time, the black sports car roared to life, surged out of the garage, and shot into the hazy night.Bruce gripped the steering wheel, t
Bruce tilted his head slightly, his warm lips brushing her temple as if by chance. "We can't be apart for even a single day."Isolde's heart jolted, then began to race, pounding against her chest like a drum. Heat spread from her heart through her limbs, tingling and throbbing.Bruce did not just say it. He acted on it. With practical precision, he moved her dream, her career, and her team to his side."Hubby…" She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her soft lips to his. "I was wrong. From now on, I'll take you with me wherever I go."Bruce looked at her, a smile deepening from his lips to his eyes. "Okay."…"Prince." Ezra stepped into the study, his tone unusually serious. "Victor is dead."The faint sound of turning pages stopped.Bruce lifted his gaze, sharp and focused. "How did he die?"Victor had been imprisoned and interrogated under the personal order of the Queen of Karsden, in a place under constant, strict surveillance. Even suicide would have been nearly impossible
"It's Bruce!" Sandra looked heartbroken and furious. "I checked. It was Bruce who sent people. He hates you. He couldn't take the Princetons' inheritance, so he wanted you to lose your mother just like him…"Alan's fingers clenched until his knuckles whitened. His eyes burned red, flooded with grie
"Murder! Sandra, you killed someone! I'm calling the police, calling the police!" Maxime fumbled for his phone and started to dial.'Call the police?' The words struck Sandra like a thunderclap and snapped her awake. 'No. He can't call the police!'After coming this far, she could not go to jail.
Alan had been waiting a long time. When he saw Cheron wheeled out, the final trace of uncertainty in his heart vanished.He strode to Bruce's wheelchair with the confidence of a victor, bent slightly, and spoke in a voice meant only for them."I heard you tried to play the pity card, hoping your t
Sandra's face drained of color. "No! Mom, this is fake. Isolde forged it. She's framing me."She shook her head in frantic denial, but her mind spiraled into chaos. She had torn every paternity test to shreds without reading a single line. So why had Maxime managed to piece those scraps back togeth







