Chapter 72: Tangled Threads
The moment Chase got in the car, the driver hit the gas and sped him straight to the venue. This venue was famous for hosting all kinds of exhibitions—luxury jewelry shows, fashion events, you name it. It sat in one of the city’s most luxurious districts, where every inch of land was worth a fortune. Most companies couldn’t even get a spot here.
In all the years it had operated, this place had never once had an accident. And yet, today, during a collaboration between Quinn Group and Fenon International, something had gone disastrously wrong. The second Chase saw Avery’s injuries on the operating table, he knew—someone had wanted Avery dead. That steel beam had missed his heart by a hair’s breadth. It wasn’t luck; it was pure, deliberate danger.
Outside the venue, police tape cordoned off the area. Chase was about to speak at the entrance when Waylon came striding out, phone pressed to his ear, talking in a low, fast voice. He spotted Chase immediately, lifted the police tape, and waved him through.
“I know, the pressure from upstairs is gonna be massive,” Waylon was saying into the phone. “But I want to see if he can survive Lemon and Madam Wendy teaming up. They’re going to the main station tomorrow to have a ‘chat’ with the higher-ups.”
“We’ll see if Cain can hold out. Yeah, I’ll be there later. Talk then.”
Waylon ended the call and glanced at Chase, seeing his exhausted face. Without a word, he led him into a private room. Inside, the table was piled high with food—steaming dishes still fresh from the kitchen. Lemon and Wendy sat side by side, heads close together, deep in conversation. They looked up when the door opened.
Wendy waved him over. “Right on time. The food’s average here. Just grab a few bites.”
Chase glanced at the table, stacked high with plates, and wondered what Wendy’s definition of “a few bites” even was.
“How’s Avery?” Wendy asked immediately. Lemon had already gotten a call from Avery’s agent saying he was stable for now, but she wanted confirmation.
“He’s out of immediate danger,” Chase said, sitting down. “But his injuries are severe. He’s probably going to be out for six months to a year. He won’t be doing anything physically strenuous anytime soon—not that he would’ve, as an entertainer.”
Lemon cursed under her breath. It was rare for Chase to hear Lemon lose her temper. Around him, she always acted sweet and…
“Zynn and Sammy are still in meetings,” Lemon muttered, pouring herself a cup of tea. “The online storm’s out of control. Avery’s fanbase is massive—there’s no shutting this down easily.”
Waylon chimed in between mouthfuls of food. “Maintenance records show that chandelier was checked two months ago. No way it aged enough to snap like that. Somebody tampered with it.”
The venue’s head of maintenance swore that everything was inspected regularly. That chandelier falling wasn’t an accident.
“The surveillance cameras were also moved deliberately,” Waylon said. “I think someone inside got bribed. We’re questioning security staff now.”
Chase wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t eaten all day, barely drank water, stuck on standby for the entire surgery. Now, finally sitting down, hunger hit him like a truck. Wendy barely touched her food but kept piling food onto Chase’s plate, worried he’d starve.
“Today I worked with Bernard,” Chase said quietly to Wendy. “He told me he’s one of your people. Guess Madam Wendy has a soft spot for med students, huh? Met him before me?”
Wendy smiled faintly. It wasn’t quite like that. She’d met Bernard after Chase—at a time when she was heartbroken from Henry’s betrayal and had begun quietly taking over Quinn Group. Her investigation into her father’s death had naturally led her to Cloud Hospital. She’d handpicked Bernard, a top student, to quietly embed inside the hospital. Five years ago.
“I still like you more,” Wendy whispered, smiling as she kissed him lightly.
Waylon rolled his eyes at the flirting and shoved food onto Lemon’s plate to distract himself.
“What now?” Lemon asked grimly. “Chase can handle the hospital, but what about outside? I’m worried they’ll bury this.”
“If they do,” Wendy said calmly, “then it’s time for some serious PR. I never thought we’d pin this on the Harrison family anyway.”
She wiped her mouth and turned to Waylon. “What’s your take?”
Waylon leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigarette. The faint curl of smoke framed his sharp features.
“What do you want me to say? The crime’s been committed. All we can do is catch whoever’s…”
Chase frowned. “He’ll wake up today, but his condition’s fragile. I don’t recommend questioning him yet. He hurt his lungs—too much stress or fear could seriously set him back.”
Waylon threw up his hands. “If we can’t question him, how the hell are we supposed to investigate?!”
Watching her brother lose his temper, Lemon smacked him lightly on the arm, then turned back to Chase. “Avery’s assistant will be at the hospital. If you need anything, you can reach out to him.”