CHAPTER 45: CHAPTER 45: IAN KANE’S CHEATING PHOTOS

She sat cross-legged on the yoga mat, trying to calm the storm within her through meditation, but her chaotic thoughts were like a beast breaking free from its cage, impossible to tame.

The seeds of suspicion had long been planted, and now were thoroughly watered by Nina’s call, breaking through the ground and growing wildly.

Ten minutes left.

In the end, she succumbed to the impulse of urgently seeking proof and liberation.

She changed into casual clothes, took a deep breath, and walked out of the dance company building.

The early summer sunlight was somewhat glaring, yet it didn’t bring any warmth to her body.

...

At 10:30 in the morning, the second floor of the Blue Shore Café was so empty it was almost desolate.

The air was filled with the scorched aroma of coffee beans.

Vera Sheridan instantly spotted Nina sitting by the window in the corner.

She was like a white iris battered by wind and rain, pale to the point of transparency.

Her wavy hair had lost its usual luster, hanging loosely and highlighting her small, haggard face.

A khaki Burberry trench coat wrapped around her, but couldn’t hide her frail figure.

She held a glass tightly in both hands, steam faintly rising from the rim, yet her fingertips were white from exertion.

Vera stepped closer, her leather shoes clacking lightly on the wooden floor, each step resonating like a note on her taut heartstrings.

The slight limp of her right foot seemed magnified in the silence of the space.

Nina lifted her head at the sound, her gaze landing precisely on Vera’s right foot, a smile tinged with mockery and satisfaction playing on her lips.

Half a year ago, on that rainy night, Ian was clearly at the foot of the mountain in a guesthouse indulging with her, yet Vera foolishly braved the storm to find him, ending up like this... such irony.

Vera sat down across from her, her back straight, her eyes briefly sweeping over the brown envelope beside her.

Nina lifted her chin slightly, meeting her gaze, getting straight to the point, "My child is gone! I have nothing left! With nothing to lose, I’m not afraid of Ian Kane’s revenge!"

A spark of hatred flared in her eyes, "Since I’m suffering, don’t think you’ll have peace either!"

She was certain of Vera’s moral rigidity; as soon as she saw the hard evidence, there would be an inevitable break with Ian Kane.

Once divorced, losing the aura of Mrs. Kane, what would a washed-up dancer with a limp be left with?

Whereas Nina still had the chance to pick up her dance shoes and start over.

This, too, would be a kind of vindictive victory.

Nina picked up the heavy envelope, slowly unwinding the entwined white string, her actions deliberately slow, infused with a hint of a nervous tremor.

Her weary eyes were fixed on Vera, eager to see her lose composure.

Vera remained calm.

The agitation in Nina’s heart soared; no longer waiting, she impatiently pulled out a thick stack of printout photos with frayed edges from the bag.

She gave Vera a scornful glance, a malicious satisfaction in destruction, and slammed the photos onto the table with a loud "smack!"

A few photos slipped out, the topmost one revealing a man’s bare chest!

A familiar sleeping face, resting on a champagne-colored silk pillowcase... it was Ian Kane!

The angle of the photo was suggestive, and below, the crucial parts were mostly obscured by the envelope edge.

Vera’s pupils suddenly contracted.

Almost instinctively, she reached out, wanting to grasp the photos to confirm the glaring scene.

"No rush!" Nina, however, was quicker, snatching the photos back along with the envelope, clutching them tightly to her chest, her mocking smile deepening.

Vera frowned, her gaze as cold as frost: "Nina, what do you mean?"

Nina didn’t answer immediately, her mind swirling with calculating thoughts—

Ian Kane’s assistant had stopped her card, the half-built house in her hometown, her father and brother’s medical bills... a massive void needing money to fill!

These photos couldn’t be given away for free!

She originally intended to sell that imperial green bracelet for emergency funds, but this morning she couldn’t even enter "One Ardendale"; the security said the entire building had blacklisted her, barring her entrance.

All her valuables were inside.

But Ian Kane’s assistant said they never belonged to her.

She couldn’t even prove those things were hers.

Vera picked up the lemon water in front of her, the icy liquid sliding down her throat, barely gathering a thread of clarity in her chaotic thoughts.

She looked at the undisguised greed and calculation in Nina’s eyes, speaking calmly, "How much do you want? Name a price. But first, I need to verify that the person in the photos is indeed Ian Kane... and you."

She must see the hard evidence with her own eyes.

Nina secretly took a deep breath, a fierce, do-or-die resolve surging in her chest, just about to quote an astronomical figure—

"Buzz..."

The phone suddenly vibrated in her palm.

She glanced down, a new message flashing on the screen, from an unknown number:

The boss still likes you.

Obey obediently, and you can continue living a luxurious life.

It’s Quentin Hawthorne’s assistant!

Nina’s fingers tightened abruptly around the phone, her knuckles turning white from the pressure, almost crushing the screen.

Ian Kane is still willing to support her?

She can continue living a lavish life like a socialite without having to work hard dancing.

Also, the folks back home would still think she’s found a wealthy boyfriend.

Uncle said that by the end of the year when she returns home, they’ll let her into the ancestral hall—

She’s the only girl in the Sullivan Family to bring glory.

How could the money Vera Sheridan offers possibly compare to the endless wealth and dignity Ian Kane can provide?

In a flash, the balance tilted completely.

Nina suddenly lifted her head, looking at Vera Sheridan opposite her, the greed and madness in her eyes quickly faded, replaced by a more vicious, gloating cold light.

She leaned back comfortably into the sofa backrest, her long legs elegantly crossed, arms folded, her posture full of deliberate provocation.

"Ms. Sheridan," she drawled, her tone carrying a cruel, cat-playing-with-mouse sense, "You are so easy to fool. I told you to come, and you really did? Like a puppet on strings."

She nodded toward the floor-to-ceiling window with a strange smile, "Look outside, the drama is beginning."

Vera’s heart skipped a beat, she quickly turned her head to look outside—

Across the road, a throng of "long lens cameras" had gathered without her realizing!

The photographers had set up their cameras, all the flashbulbs pointed precisely at the café’s second floor where they were sitting, flashing crazily!

Vera’s expression changed abruptly, she jumped up and pulled the thick curtains, shutting out the prying eyes.

She spun around abruptly, her gaze like a torch directed at Nina: "What do you mean?!"

Nina leisurely glanced at the phone screen under the table, as if confirming something, then lifted her face, her smile twisted and relieved:

"It means—I’m not letting you off easy! Since Quentin Hawthorne, that good-for-nothing, doesn’t want me, I’m going to cause a huge uproar for you and Mr. Kane!"

Her voice suddenly rose, "To tell you the truth, I tipped off the reporters before I came! Now, the whole world believes the wife of the Kane Group’s CEO is here having a ’clash of the century’ with the ’rumored mistress’! Guess what tomorrow’s headlines will say?"

She paused, seemingly savoring something, her eyes filled with swirling hatred: "Yesterday in the hospital room, Ian Kane had his good assistant slap me ten times! Ten times!"

She pointed to her still pale cheek, her voice trembling with agitation, "I have nothing to lose now! If I’m not doing well, none of you will either! I’ll drive you all insane!"

Vera’s icy gaze locked intensely on Nina, trying to discern truth from her crazed and twisted expression.

"Thanks to you," Nina’s voice was sharp and piercing, filled with the thrill of destruction, "the whole world will ’confirm’ the scandal of Ian Kane’s infidelity! Let’s see how you keep pretending to be a loving couple!"

She even pulled out that brown file folder again, deliberately holding it high and waving it toward the curtains, ensuring those all-seeing lenses downstairs could capture this suggestive movement—

Look, the wife and the mistress are exchanging "evidence"!

Vera’s mind buzzed with confusion, tangled clues—

That fleeting glimpse of Ian Kane’s nude photo, Nina’s current abnormal madness, the reporters downstairs watching intensely...

And those previous bits of evidence.

She suppressed the surging turmoil in her blood, her voice carried a barely detectable tremor, trying to grasp the last shred of logic: "Nina... did he threaten you? Is that why you’re doing this?"

Could it be that Ian Kane has something on her again?

Nina was stunned for a moment by these words, then as if she heard the biggest joke, exaggeratedly widened her eyes: "Vera, you’re so insecure, aren’t you?"

"Do you always think because you’re cold and wooden, your husband couldn’t take it, and that’s why he was attracted to a passionate, willing girl like me?"

She deliberately looked Vera up and down, her gaze contemptuous.

Vera’s face instantly darkened like an icy pond.

Seeing her humiliated expression, Nina grew even more smug, tears of physiological laughter almost spilling from the corners of her eyes, her tone full of mockery:

"Tsk tsk tsk, after today’s chaos, will your high-and-mighty Mr. Kane still tolerate you, the ’neurotic’ cripple? No touching, always paranoid? Haha! If I were him, I’d have dumped a woman like you who takes up space but does nothing about it eight hundred times! What makes you so special, huh?"

"Nina!" Vera only felt a fishy sweetness rushing to her throat, her blood seething, she shouted harshly, "What on earth are you going crazy about?!"

Nina looked at her like she was an incurable fool and rolled her eyes dramatically.

She stopped wasting words, just smugly shook the file folder in her hand, once again making a display for the lenses below, her intentions couldn’t be clearer—

She just wanted to confirm this "negotiation" and "exchange," thoroughly splattering mud on Vera and Ian Kane!

Vera finally understood.

Nina didn’t come today for any negotiation; she came to go down together!

Or rather, she came with the most tragic means, to drag her to hell, and vent her resentment onto Ian Kane!

Staying here any longer would only make her the saddest footnote in this farce, providing more material for those lenses to blow out of proportion.

She no longer looked at Nina’s face full of malice and didn’t try to snatch those photos of dubious authenticity.

Without any unnecessary words, she resolutely turned, straightened her back, and walked quickly towards the stairs.

With every step, the slight limp of her right foot felt like stepping on scalding iron, painfully unbearable, but she forced herself to walk steadily, with dignity.