Todos os capítulos de Too Late for Regrets: The Betrayer Wants Me Back: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

The crystal lights in the Grand Hyatt ballroom suddenly seemed painfully bright. On the reception table near the entrance, the large projector that normally displayed beautiful photos of the invited guests was now occupied by digital files from the flash drive Kyle had thrown down.Everyone in the room stared at the large screen with bated breath. Rows of digital forensic charts, file metadata analyses, and stamped statements were displayed clearly. The evidence looked neat, highly detailed, and convincing. In the eyes of the uninformed guests, the data seemed to prove that the evidence of the cheating scandal Ravelle had exposed several months earlier was the result of sophisticated fabrication and manipulation.Ravelle stood frozen beside Erlan. Her throat felt constricted. She read every line on the projector screen with her hands clenched tightly in trembling fists.Erlan, who was known as a specialist doctor and highly educated genius researcher, immediately narrowed his eyes whe

Chapter 83The sound of a cellphone ringing repeatedly shattered the silence of the night inside Kyle’s private study. On the desk, which was littered with cigarette butts and empty whiskey glasses, the phone vibrated violently, displaying an incoming call from an unknown number.Kyle, sitting with his eyes half-closed from the effects of alcohol and mental exhaustion, reached for the phone with trembling hands. He pressed the answer button and brought it to his ear.“Hello...” Kyle’s voice sounded hoarse and heavy.“How was it? Your performance at tonight’s event certainly attracted quite a lot of public attention, Mr. Stevens,” an elegant, cold female voice with a strong aura of dominance greeted him from the other end of the line.Kyle immediately straightened his back. A flicker of awareness struck his mind. He recognized that voice very well—the voice of the woman who had mysteriously contacted him a few days ago, provided him with a large amount of funding, and handed over all t

The morning sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden glow over the towering main building of Branson Group in the heart of the capital. However, the atmosphere on the ground floor of the magnificent building was filled with a tense and oppressive atmosphere. Dozens of members of the media, from print journalists and national television stations to digital investigative journalists, crowded into the press conference room. Camera spotlights and microphones were lined up tightly across the podium table, creating a constant hum from thousands of curious people.Behind the main stage, Ravelle stood tall, wearing a formal black suit with a white silk inner shirt. Her face looked calm, radiating an extraordinary aura of determination and authority. There were no longer any traces of tears or sorrow from the previous night. Beside her, Erlan stood with his arm protectively around Ravelle’s waist, providing invaluable moral support. In Erlan’s hand was a thick black folder containing all t

The familiar scent of antiseptic and IV fluids that usually felt so strong and suffocating inside the V.I.P. ward of Medika Utama Hospital now seemed to have been replaced by fresh and calming air. Morning sunlight streamed through the gap between the curtains of the hospital room, casting a warm golden glow across the white marble floor.On the neatly arranged hospital bed, Grandpa Branson slowly opened his eyes. The elderly man’s eyelids moved gradually as they adjusted to the light filtering into the room. The wrinkles on his forehead seemed to relax, and his breathing, which had nearly stopped several days ago, now flowed steadily, indicating that he had successfully survived the most critical period of his life.Ravelle, who had been faithfully sitting beside the bed since the previous night while tightly holding her grandfather’s palm, immediately straightened her body, holding her breath. Tears of emotion instantly welled up in her eyes.“Grandpa...” Ravelle called out in a hoa

The cold, stuffy air inside the isolation block of the State Detention Center pierced all the way to the bone. In the corner of the cramped cell with its rough cement floor, Kyle Stevens curled up on a thin, worn-out folding mattress. The orange prison uniform clinging to his body looked increasingly oversized, hanging loosely over his increasingly thin and neglected frame. His hair was disheveled, while a thick beard covered half of his face, reflecting a mental collapse that had reached its lowest point.On a small wooden table beside his bed, a borrowed inmate tablet that allowed access to daily news glowed dimly. The small screen displayed a rerun of a luxury lifestyle documentary and footage of the lavish wedding on the Malibu coast that had just been broadcast by various national television stations.Kyle stared at the screen with bloodshot eyes, the veins clearly visible. Tears streamed down his sunken cheeks, falling endlessly onto the surface of his shabby blanket.On the scr