CHAPTER 97: CHAPTER 97: HIS MISTRESS...CORINNE KENSINGTON?

Perhaps it was the overly intense movement, or perhaps the atmosphere was too heated, but Corinne Kensington’s mask suddenly loosened and slipped off.

Revealing a face intoxicated by alcohol and desire.

Vivi Sterling’s spirit suddenly invigorated.

"Quick! Get a close-up! It’s now!" She urged the man beside her, trying to keep her voice down.

The man fumbled clumsily, his camera lens fixated on Corinne Kensington’s unguarded face.

This scoop is sure to mature nicely!

...

After three days of fermentation, the stock price of The Lockwood Group plummeted like a kite with a cut string, hitting yet another solid limit-down.

In the office, Andy Lockwood was as stable as Mount Tai, lightly tapping the keyboard while handling overseas affairs, occasionally getting up to entertain a few important guests.

Yesterday, people from the related departments came to him for a serious discussion.

The matter had escalated to an extent that it had drawn significant attention from the authorities.

Stella Grant was genuinely restless. She walked over to Andy Lockwood’s desk, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Senior brother, things can’t continue like this. With the stock price in free fall every day, it’s really going to drag the company down!"

She took a deep breath.

"Why don’t we hold a press conference and properly explain the situation?"

Andy Lockwood lifted his head from the documents, eyes behind his glasses carrying a gentle smile.

"Sure." He closed the laptop, "I’ll follow your lead."

After a pause, he added, "But it has to be in three days."

"Still wait for three days?"

Stella Grant was a bit speechless, the situation was urgent, yet he remained so relaxed.

But then she reconsidered, knowing he always has his own rhythm and deeper meaning in handling affairs, perhaps he really has arrangements she is not aware of.

Andy Lockwood looked at her frowning face, the corner of his mouth curled up.

"What, worried about me?"

He leaned back slightly, reclining in his chair, with a leisurely posture.

"If I really go bankrupt, I’ll report to Bluebird Technologies, how about it, President Grant, would you take in this unemployed fellow?"

He had been holding the position of general manager at Bluebird Technologies. In the past three years, the thriving development of Bluebird Technologies owed a lot to him, he indeed contributed a significant amount of effort.

Stella Grant was amused by him, her worries also scattered a bit.

"Sure, as long as Lord Lockwood is willing to be my workhorse, why wouldn’t I want that?"

Her tone was light, carrying a few teasing hints.

Just then, Andy Lockwood’s private phone suddenly rang sharply, the ringtone appearing particularly abrupt in the quiet office.

He picked up the phone, glanced at the caller display, and connected the call.

"Hello."

Whatever was said on the other end of the line caused Andy Lockwood’s face to turn cold abruptly, his gaze becoming sharp.

"Clean it up yourself!"

He said just these few words briefly, his voice icy, devoid of any emotion, then hung up the phone with a ’click’.

The whole process happened so fast it was hard to react.

Stella Grant observed his suddenly darkened face, a tight feeling in her heart.

"What happened?" She asked softly, with an undeniable concern in her tone.

Andy Lockwood casually tossed his phone onto the desk, the coldness on his face somewhat contained, yet deep in his eyes, an inexplicable emotion still swirled.

"Nothing much, just some issues at headquarters." He rubbed his brow, appearing somewhat fatigued, "Would you accompany me to dinner tonight?"

He raised his eyes to look at Stella Grant, the warmth in his gaze returned, as if the abrupt change earlier was just an illusion.

Stella Grant nodded her head, "Alright."

She didn’t inquire further, knowing that what he doesn’t wish to disclose is futile to ask.

"I’ll head out to get things done." She turned and left the office.

Just as the office door closed, the warmth on Andy Lockwood’s face vanished entirely.

He swiftly picked up another encrypted phone from the desk, dialed a number, and as soon as the call connected, his voice was as cold and hard as iron, devoid of a shred of warmth.

"Handle it cleanly! If necessary, sacrifice the pawn to keep the general!"

In his eyes, there was an overwhelming murderous intent, so intense it was almost spilling out.

...

On the other side.

Eastenwild, an estate long abandoned, where the air was thick with decay and dampness.

Aiden Fordham and Quentin Lockwood, leading a team, quietly surrounded the place.

Quentin Lockwood’s intelligence indicated that Bruno Duvall was hiding here.

"Move in!" With a command given, several people broke in through the door.

The house was empty, covered in dust, obviously uninhabited for quite some time.

However, an old wooden table in the corner had a tea set placed neatly upon it.

Quentin Lockwood stepped forward, extended his finger to gently touch the body of the teapot.

"It’s still warm." He frowned, "Just left not long ago, split up and pursue!"

Before the words could settle, a faint but thick scent of blood wafted over from some direction.

Aiden Fordham’s nose twitched, his face shifted slightly, "Wait!"

Following the scent of blood, the group found an inconspicuous entrance to a basement at the back of the estate.

The door was violently kicked open.

A nauseating stench assaulted them, almost suffocating.

In the dimly lit basement, only thin beams of light shining through the ventilation shafts offered illumination.

Quentin Lockwood was the first to enter, adjusted to the lighting, then his gaze froze on the center of the basement.

There, suspended was a blurred body, covered in ghastly wounds, the blood already coagulated into dark red.

He approached for a closer inspection.

"Dead!" The voice was low, carrying a hint of gravity.

Aiden Fordham followed closely, and upon seeing the horrific scene, his pupils constricted sharply, lips sealed into a thin line.

This person, could it be Bruno Duvall?

Quentin Lockwood reached out, brushed aside the person’s falling, blood-stained hair, revealing distorted features, and examined the back of the body’s shoulder.

There, a fierce black snake tattoo faintly visible between the torn flesh.

"It’s him, Bruno Duvall." Quentin Lockwood’s tone was exceedingly certain.

Aiden Fordham’s eyes were as deep as an unfathomable cold pool.

Bruno Duvall, dead?

And killed in such a cruel manner, who captured him? Who is he being punished by this horrendous means?

Quentin Lockwood stood up, surveying this simple yet bloody basement.

"Judging by the method, the person who kidnapped him must have a deep hatred for him. Could it be... the woman we’ve been searching for?"

The woman who Bruno Duvall had always imprisoned and abused? Only such bone-deep hatred would drive someone to use this method, so brutally inhumane.

Aiden Fordham was silent for a moment, his voice was chilly.

"Then we lay in wait." He looked at Quentin Lockwood, "Check the surveillance around here, see if any suspicious vehicles or people have appeared."

The two exited together, the smell of blood still heavily saturating the air.

Time ticked by minute by minute.

Approximately four hours later, as the night deepened, two beams of headlights suddenly illuminated the desolate path outside the abandoned mansion.

A black nanny van slowly drove in, parked outside the estate’s gate.

From his hidden position in the darkness, Aiden Fordham scanned the vehicle sharply.

Once the license plate number was visible, his tall frame couldn’t help but tremble slightly.

This license plate... so familiar!

The car door opened.

A foot in a refined high-heeled shoe first stepped out, followed by a graceful figure.

Soon, a dazzling yet slightly cool aloof face was clearly within his sight.

It’s Corinne Kensington!