Chapter 490

Brad kept his voice steady. “None of the women at that table tonight — or their businesses — are getting into the commercial district.”

Her brows lifted. “Oh.”

He leaned in, the candlelight catching the sharp lines of his face. “Rylie, do you really believe I’d be swayed by just anyone?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m not some puppet who dances to my grandfather’s tune,” he said. “I thought we had more in common than that. So don’t be so quick to write me off. Look again. Maybe you missed something.”

That was the last thing he said for the night.

Rylie went quiet. Her thoughts spiraled inward.

For the first time in a while, she felt like she might need to face a few truths about herself.

But before she could go any deeper, her phone buzzed with a call from Marsha. Marsha’s voice came through, confused. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s a big crowd of fans outside the hospital. Something happened to a boy band group at Nova Sports Pavilion.”

Rylie sat up straighter. “Didn’t I mention that to you earlier?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Marsha replied, “No, I thought you were talking about that CEO’s daughter. She was the only one brought in by the ambulance we sent to the Nova Sports Pavilion this afternoon.”

Rylie’s face shifted in an instant. “Wait — did she drink some water with caustic soda too? That’s an odd coincidence.”

Marsha’s tone grew sharper. “Too? And who else drank it?”

“Vincent Hinks,” said Rylie. “He’s one of the members of a popular boy band.”

Marsha gasped and turned toward the windows. “But he’s not at our hospital.”

Rylie pressed her fingers to her temples. “Something’s definitely off. Call the PR team. Tell them to be ready. I’ll dig into this myself.”

At Elaine’s home, tension filled the air.

“I thought she was just some med student with a few first aid classes,” Elaine said without looking up, her voice low. “She bought a café near Nova Sports Pavilion. It costs at least ten million. That’s no ordinary girl.”

This wasn’t some freak accident. It was a setup. And the one behind it all was none other than Vincent’s boss — Elaine.

A man about the same age as Vincent, Beal Gilbert, sat quietly beside Elaine, his lips pressed tight. After a pause, he finally asked, “So, what now?”

Elaine let out a sigh. “I still don’t know who that woman really is. At first, I planned to use her as a scapegoat — a backup plan.” She paused, her voice quieter. “But now, I wouldn’t dare blame Vincent’s murder on her without proof.”

Beal glanced over. “And Vincent? Did he make it to the hospital?”

“He’s still at a private clinic,” she answered. “They’ve been keeping him sedated.” Elaine met his gaze, her expression tight as she continued, “The dose of caustic soda was severe. But whatever method she used — it worked. The clinic’s doctor says he’s stable for now, and there’s still a chance to save him.” She took a breath. “His vocal cords are half gone. If the damage gets worse, he could lose his voice completely by tomorrow. I want to move him to a proper hospital before it’s too late.”

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