CHAPTER 133: CHAPTER 133: HOLLY CROWE IS FRAMED (PART 2)

Shannon Yarrow struggled to support Theodore Roth, trying to persuade him, "Old Mr. Roth, how about we go back inside to rest while waiting for the car?"

Theodore Roth, under the influence of alcohol, suddenly slapped away Shannon Yarrow’s hand. His palm, uncontrolled in strength, brushed past her face.

A loud "slap" echoed.

The surroundings fell silent instantly.

Shannon Yarrow covered her face, her eyes reddening, looking pitifully vulnerable.

The nearby young men showed expressions of sympathy, stepping forward to intervene, "Miss Yarrow, let me take Old Mr. Roth!"

"I can do it too, I haven’t drunk much!"

"My car is convenient as well."

Shannon Yarrow covered her face, forcing a smile, "Then... sorry to trouble all of you."

She turned her head to look at Theodore Roth, "Old Mr. Roth, you see..."

"Ugh, doing this! You fool! Who dares invite me into their car?" Theodore Roth drunkenly interrupted her, and the scene turned awkward.

Your drinking style reflects your character; a master known for grace and integrity in public, but a foul-mouthed drunkard in private.

Holly Crowe already had a bad impression of him from the daytime incident, and now it had worsened.

Everyone present understood this, but out of respect, they dared to be angry but not to speak out.

Theodore Roth squinted, pointing at Holly Crowe, and slurred, "You come here..."

Holly Crowe didn’t fully understand his words, but understood from his gesture that she should go over.

Shannon Yarrow laughed to mediate, "Teacher Holly, Old Mr. Roth probably wants to take your car back. Everyone’s been waiting for so long, if you don’t mind..."

With everyone watching, refusing again would make Holly Crowe seem unreasonable.

She didn’t want to become the target of everyone’s criticism.

It’s just driving a drunk home, consider it a good deed.

Shannon Yarrow immediately called someone to help Theodore Roth into Holly Crowe’s car.

As Holly Crowe was about to get into the car, Shannon Yarrow blocked the car door sideways.

She showed a distressed expression, pleading, "Earlier, Old Mr. Roth specifically asked me to accompany him in his drunken words. Could you trouble your driver to give us a lift?

You haven’t drunk tonight, and my car is right next door; if you drive my car down the mountain, it won’t delay your return home. Does that work for you?"

Every word emphasizing ’you.’

So respectful.

Wasn’t she giving her cold stares as a love rival before?

Now she’s this polite?

Young artist? More like a face-changing artist.

Holly Crowe had an amusing notion, perhaps Shannon Yarrow wanted to get in because it was Blake Sinclair’s Maybach.

Over there, as soon as Shannon Yarrow finished speaking, she glanced at the crowd, and someone immediately echoed:

"Teacher Holly is beautiful and kind, surely she’ll agree."

"It’s so late, Old Mr. Roth and Miss Yarrow won’t be safe. You live the closest; it’s best if you drive."

"Miss Yarrow thought it through; we all drank tonight, no one can drive!"

People around chimed in one after another, clearly aiming to put Holly Crowe in a difficult position.

Shannon Yarrow further added, "The mountain road is indeed difficult at night. If it really doesn’t work, you can drive to the scenic spot parking below and call for a chauffeur."

The driver was anxious to speak, but Holly Crowe gently patted his shoulder.

She patted the driver’s back softly, "You take Old Mr. Roth and Miss Yarrow back. I’ll drive myself down the mountain. Thank you for your hard work; I’ll ask Blake to pay you overtime later."

"Ma’am..."

"It’s fine, go ahead."

Helplessly, the driver glared at Shannon Yarrow, then turned to get into the driver’s seat.

Shannon Yarrow handed the car key to Holly Crowe, "I’ll trouble you then, Teacher Holly. Be careful on the road."

In the car, Theodore Roth started acting up again, urging to get going, as Holly Crowe took the key.

One by one, the cars drove away.

In the end, only Holly Crowe was left standing alone in the deserted parking lot.

The night wind howled, swaying her skirt, and the moonlight filtered through the branches, casting mottled shadows on the ground, dark and frightening.

Holly Crowe looked at the car key Shannon Yarrow had handed over, then glanced at the pitch-dark mountain road.

She pressed the car key in her hand; not far away, the red Porsche flashed its lights, rather conspicuously.

In the heavy darkness, a long-dormant beast opened its eyes.

Holly Crowe lifted her skirt and walked towards the lone car.

She adjusted the seat back and mirrors, started the engine, tapped the brake, confirmed everything was in order, and fastened her seatbelt.

A three-kilometer downhill road, no streetlights, only the car lights cutting through the darkness.

Holly Crowe gripped the steering wheel tightly.

The car still carried a familiar scent of perfume; she just smelled it on Shannon Yarrow earlier, her regular choice.

The cold wind blew, intensifying the fragrance.

Holly Crowe dared not be careless, driving slowly, a vague unease gripping her heart.

The scent in the car grew stronger, making her feel stifled, so she turned off the air conditioning and lowered the window.

The mountain breeze poured into the cabin, bringing a refreshing chill, diluting the scent inside.

But the unease in her heart grew more pronounced.

Thinking that this Porsche belonged to Shannon Yarrow made her feel uncomfortable all over.

She involuntarily glanced at the rearview mirror, the back seat empty, nothing there, but she felt as if something unknown was hiding in the shadow.

Holly Crowe shook her head, calmed herself, and stepped on the accelerator, wanting to leave quickly.

Fortunately, it was mostly clear of cars at night, and the drive was smooth, allowing her to relax her grip on the steering wheel slightly.

The Porsche had almost reached the foot of the mountain, just about to merge onto the highway, when a black Audi suddenly rushed out at the last turn.

The black Audi nearly blended with the night, suddenly darting from the side without warning, moving at a startling speed, as if timed perfectly to her appearance.

Reacting quickly, Holly Crowe slammed on the brakes.

"Bang!"

The crash sound was deafening.

With an abrupt stop, the seatbelt tightened swiftly, pulling Holly Crowe back into the seat after throwing her forward from inertia, her mind blank, buzzing.

She was in shock for a few seconds, her ears filled with the sound of her heartbeat.

Instinct for survival made her push the door open and stumble out of the car.

She intended to check on the other party’s situation.

At that moment, the door of the Audi was flung open forcefully.

A panicked man rushed out from the driver’s seat.

It was Daniel Alden.

He strode to the rear seat door and opened it; Mia Chapelle, wearing a mask, clutched her abdomen, her face deathly pale, lying on the seat.

The light-colored seat cushion beneath her was already soaked in blood, along with the hem of her skirt.

Blood dripped from the car seat onto the asphalt road.

The red stain looked particularly glaring and eerie under the car lights.

Seeing this, Holly Crowe staggered back a few steps, steadying herself with a hand on the car hood.

A crowd of people quickly gathered around.

Whether they just happened to pass by or had been waiting here was unclear.

"Blood! My child! My child!"

Mia Chapelle moaned in agony, fingers trembling as she pointed at Holly Crowe, "She... she was drunk driving!"