Chapter 92
On the highway, despite light traffic, a few cars briefly impeded the Ferrari driver. Fortunately, his expert driving skills, honed from years of racing, allowed him to quickly navigate around them and pursue the e-bike ahead.
In his rearview mirror, Blake saw the Ferrari gaining. He accelerated, leaving the sports car behind, then mockingly gestured to his rival.
The Ferrari driver, furious, slammed the accelerator, only to find the e-bike had vanished. The sudden disappearance felt like a harsh rebuke. He was driving as fast as possible, frustrated that his powerful sports car couldn't keep pace with an e-bike.
"Isabel, am I impressive?" Blake asked, exhilarated by outpacing the Ferrari.
"Honestly, you shouldn't compete; it's rather childish," Isabel replied, unconvinced by the rivalry.
"You don't understand: this is what competition between guys is about! I won't let anyone take my girl!"
Isabel remained silent as they arrived at a restaurant, releasing her grip on his waist. Blake parked and ordered a selection of Isabel's favorite dishes. He then asked, "Is the Clyde family still bothering you?"
As Isabel enjoyed her meal, a thought struck her. "Did you start that online mess? The suspension of 'Idols Reloaded' was a huge deal, seemingly impossible without someone manipulating events behind the scenes."
"Yes, Lucas wanted to debut and needed your approval. That family has no decency. Even bankrupt, they still try to bully you."
"Maybe they always saw me as an easy target," Isabel mused.
Blake asked intently, "Did you often endure their bullying before?"
"Not exactly. Let's not talk about it," Isabel preferred to avoid the memories. She recalled a childhood lacking love, missing her biological parents, and her attempts to please the Clyde family, hoping to earn their affection. She even arranged for Chris to work with Caius, hoping to alleviate their burdens. She naively believed a happy family life would shift their focus to her, making them care. Ultimately, she realized that without blood ties, true love remained elusive.
After dinner, Isabel checked her phone and saw a voice message from Amara. Uninterested in listening, she converted it to text. Amara's message prompted a shake of Isabel's head, and she replied with comfort and a promise of a future meal.
By the riverside, Guinevere confronted David. "Didn't you say it was foolproof? How could this happen? I've been humiliated—everyone at the company is laughing at me! How did you handle your business?"
Fuming with anger, Guinevere was deeply distressed. The once-ostracized members of the family were back to torment her, unbelievably.
"Guinevere, this is all Soren's fault. I just relayed what he said. Who could have anticipated a nearby fire—what a disaster!"
"You've made me a laughingstock! My grandmother scolded me, my father yelled at me, and the entire company humiliated me. How am I supposed to face anyone again?"
To appease Guinevere, David quickly produced his phone. "I'll call Soren right now and demand an explanation. If he can't provide one, I promise I'll make him pay."
As he tried to contact Soren, the call failed, prompting a frustrated outburst. "Damn it! What's that guy doing? Why isn't he answering?"
"Why can't you do anything right?" Guinevere rebuked him.
Then, something drifted by in the river, catching her eye. "What is that, David, look! It looks like a person!" Guinevere cried, alarmed.
David saw it too. He rushed to the riverbank, grabbed a stick, and pulled the figure from the water. "It's really a person! A corpse," he said, shocked. "Call the police! Quick!"
Petrified, David and Guinevere recoiled, trembling. They had never seen a dead body before, and the sight was terrifying.
Moments later, the police arrived and removed the body on a stretcher, accompanied by the coroner.
"David, why does this person look somewhat familiar?" Guinevere asked, bewildered.
"I feel the same; let me see him closer," David moved closer to inspect the victim's face. Terror seized him; his legs turned to jelly. "It's… it's Soren!" he shouted, horrified. Guinevere's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Do you know the deceased?" the officer asked.
"Yes. He's Soren," David replied.
Knowing their acquaintance with the victim, the police requested Guinevere and David's statements at the station. They left the station pale and shaken.
"How could this happen to Soren? Did you have anything to do with this?" Guinevere asked sharply.
"That's ridiculous! Why would I do something like that? I was only trying to find him! It wasn't me! Stop accusing me!"
"His face was terrifying, his eyes bulging. Who could have done this? Could it be…"
David reached a grim conclusion. "Isabel? Could they have been bold enough to take a life?"
"Tell the police that Isabel is the culprit," Guinevere insisted, her voice rising.
David countered, "That's not a smart move. Isabel is just a girl; she wouldn't do something so extreme."
"Besides, if we accuse her, we'd be admitting we provoked Soren to set the fire, and we'd end up in jail too! It's better to stay quiet and let the police investigate."
Both Guinevere and David remained shaken, contemplating how Soren's fate might soon befall them. After offering Guinevere some comfort, David departed and headed home alone.
Night had fallen. Upon arriving at his darkened house, David fumbled for the light switch, but the lights remained off. He wondered if the electricity had been cut off due to an unpaid bill. Using his phone's light, he entered and was startled to see a figure sitting on the sofa.
"Who, who are you…" Before David could finish, someone kicked him from behind, sending his phone crashing to the floor as he fell to his knees.