Adrian Preston checked the surveillance footage from outside and spotted a group of suspicious people pushing a massive cleaning cart—one large enough to fit two petite young women inside.

Worried for Mia Kane and Shannon Preston’s safety, he followed the trail in pursuit.

Back in the lounge, a secretary reported the matter.

"Alright, I understand."

Chase Lockwood replied nonchalantly, his fingers tapping a rhythmic, staccato beat on the tabletop.

’Adrian, Adrian... I never thought you’d care about her this much. So much that your concern is clouding your judgment,’ he mused. ’Mia, if you had the power to make Adrian Preston fall head over heels for you, why weren’t you ever that devoted to me? These past three years... were you ever sincere at all?’

He narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling a knot of frustration tightening in his chest that he couldn’t seem to release.

Just then, Vivian Lynch emerged with her makeup done. She was wearing a brace, which already made her look wretched, and her makeup had been carefully designed to make her look pitiable and deserving of sympathy.

"Her lips aren’t pale enough,"

Chase Lockwood commented.

The makeup artist immediately adjusted the color, leaving her lips looking completely bloodless.

"If you haven’t fully recovered from a serious illness, you need to look the part. This is good. The Lockwood Group’s PR team will spin this immediately so your loss doesn’t look too humiliating."

"Chase, I knew you still cared about me,"

Vivian Lynch said, looking at him with immense gratitude.

"We’re husband and wife. We are one unit—we rise and fall together. Now is the time for us to present a united front. Sacrificing you was a last resort. You understand that, right?"

"I understand."

Vivian Lynch shed a few tears and nestled against his chest, sobbing softly.

Chase Lockwood gently patted her back with his large hand, a gesture of comfort.

At eight o’clock sharp, Vivian Lynch walked to the front of the stage. Countless camera lenses focused on her. If not for the barricades and the bodyguards watching nearby, the reporters would have shoved their microphones right in her face.

With her eyes red and welling with tears, Vivian Lynch began with a deep bow.

She held that bow for a full minute.

Whether it was a calculated act or something more, what the cameras captured was a seemingly sincere, even humble and pitiful, apology.

Since it was being broadcast live online, the comment section exploded.

Chase Lockwood had paid people to flood the chat at that very moment.

"She looks so pitiful."

"Don’t cry, my heart breaks for you."

"She just lost a bet, do they really have to push her this far? She’s still injured, I heard she hasn’t even recovered, and she’s being forced to come out and apologize. She has such a good temperament!"

Vivian Lynch slowly straightened up.

"Three months ago, I made a bet with Mia’s Studio. Whoever could successfully invite the renowned international designer, Nona, would be the winner in our field. The loser would have to leave the industry and issue a public apology."

"I, Vivian Lynch, am a person who honors their bets..."

Her voice hadn’t fully recovered; she could speak, but every word felt like a needle pricking her throat.

As a result, her face was streaked with tears, and every single one was genuine, born of real pain. There was no faking it.

"Today, I promise to withdraw from the design industry and close the Lin Fashion Design Company. All subsidiary copyrights and products will be discontinued. To all the customers we have served and are currently serving, I offer my sincerest apologies."

Vivian Lynch bowed again.

The moment she bent over, a single, hot tear rolled down her cheek.

Chase Lockwood, standing off to the side, watched his team to ensure they captured that exact moment.

He gave a look, signaling the PR team to take the image and use it for their campaign.

It was another minute-long bow.

Vivian Lynch rose once more. "For those we’ve served in the past, we will continue to provide lifetime support; the Lockwood Group will see its responsibility to you through to the end. As for our current clients, I cannot violate the terms of the bet and must express my sincere apologies to Miss Kane. Therefore, these clients will all be transferred to Mia’s Studio. We are taking this step out of a genuine sense of responsibility to our clients, ensuring that no one’s needs are ignored."

"I am the one who betrayed everyone’s trust. I am at fault. I hope all of you online will give me a chance to turn over a new leaf. I will be much more careful with my words and actions in the future, and I will never make a bet with anyone again."

This last sentence carried a subtle jab at Mia Kane, implying that she had used underhanded means to lure Vivian into making the bet.

"Thank you, everyone!"

Vivian Lynch bowed for a third time, her expression overflowing with sincerity.

The reporters below the stage still wanted to ask questions, but Vivian Lynch’s doctor, who was present, stated that her throat had not fully healed and it was not advisable for her to speak any more.

"It’s okay, you can ask. I can still manage," she said.

"Miss Lynch, you are a patient. Please listen to your doctor. Your vocal cords are severely damaged. If you continue talking, you might permanently lose your ability to speak. Do you want to throw your voice away?"

"But..."

"If you have any questions, you can ask me. Please, for the sake of my wife who is still a patient, forgive her. She hasn’t even been discharged from the hospital yet; she came here to apologize in her ailing condition. Please show her some compassion."

Chase Lockwood chose that moment to walk onto the stage and put his arm around Vivian Lynch, playing the part of a doting husband perfectly.

He knew exactly what today’s netizens wanted to see. All it took was a little public display of affection to make people lose their minds and start shipping them as a couple.

Vivian Lynch looked at the crowd apologetically, gave a slight cough, and then turned to leave.

Just as she was about to step off the stage and leave for good, the main doors were suddenly thrown open.

"Since this is an apology, isn’t it a bit much to end it before the injured party has even arrived? You’re asking the public to forgive her, but has she asked me—the person she actually wronged—for forgiveness?"

"Vivian Lynch, you’re quite skilled at muddying the waters and stealing the show."

Mia Kane’s cold, clear voice echoed throughout the entire hall.

Everyone’s head snapped in her direction in unison.

The moment Chase Lockwood, still on stage, saw Mia Kane, his heart gave a violent jolt.

Her face was as pale as paper, her hair was disheveled, and a large patch of her dress was dirty.

But the most shocking sight was the long gash on her calf. Fresh blood was still trickling out, winding its way down her leg.

The wound must have been excruciatingly painful, as she was unsteady on her feet, looking as if she might collapse from exhaustion at any second.

"It’s Miss Kane!"

The reporters snapped to their senses and quickly aimed their cameras at her.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!—

The camera flashes flickered incessantly. The light was so blinding she could barely see what was in front of her.

Even so, she noticed a figure quickly retreating toward an emergency exit.

Vivian Lynch was trying to escape!

"Vivian Lynch, honor your promise and apologize to me, in public!"

She deliberately emphasized the words "to me."

She hadn’t even arrived, yet they thought they could just gloss over the whole affair and sweep it under the rug.

This whole apology conference was utterly devoid of sincerity.

They were avoiding the main issue, apologizing to former customers. Was that really the point?

The reporters also realized this crucial point and immediately turned their attention back to Vivian Lynch.

Vivian Lynch was frozen at the edge of the podium, unable to get away in time.

"Miss Kane, why are you so late? Did you have an accident? Your leg...?"

a reporter asked.

"I don’t know if it was an accident or intentional. It seems someone didn’t want me to make it here,"

Mia Kane said, looking straight at Chase Lockwood.

He was up high; she stood down below.

Their gazes clashed, sharp and confrontational, neither willing to look away.

Chase Lockwood’s eyes narrowed dangerously. It was the first time he had truly witnessed Mia Kane’s courage and audacity.

She looked wretched and frail, yet her entire being seemed to radiate a brilliant light, as dazzling as the morning sun, making it impossible for anyone to look away.

He silently clenched his fists.

’This woman... he once had her, too!’