“Ah!”
Lily White tumbled from her horse with a piercing shriek.
She curled on the ground, face drained of color, sweat-drenched strands clinging to her forehead.
“Isabella… my back…” Her trembling hand reached out, voice quivering with tears. “It hurts… I can’t move…”
Isabella Jackson swiftly dismounted but halted abruptly when approaching Lily.
She turned to Evelyn Sullivan, a calculating glint flashing in her eyes.
“Evelyn, Lily only said a few angry words. How could you do this to her?”
Evelyn idly tapped her riding crop against her palm.
“She asked for it.”
“You!” Isabella’s face darkened with rage. “Lily is Alexander’s girlfriend. Aren’t you afraid Ethan will blame you?”
Evelyn’s lips curled into a frosty smile.
“What is he to me?”
“You—”
“Call a doctor,” Evelyn glanced at Lily writhing in pain, “or she might end up paralyzed.”
Isabella paled, feeling Lily’s venomous glare. She fumbled for her phone.
“This isn’t over, Evelyn!”
Evelyn ignored her, turning her horse to leave.
As she raised her crop, a glint of silver flashed from Isabella’s sleeve.
“Neigh—”
The horse reared violently with a pained cry.
Evelyn barely avoided being thrown off, knuckles whitening around the reins.
The stallion went berserk, charging wildly across the field.
“Stop it!” Staff members shouted from the sidelines.
Evelyn crouched low, thighs gripping the horse’s flanks.
The beast smashed through multiple barriers in its rampage.
Nearby, Alexander King received a call, expression darkening.
“Evelyn threw Lily off her horse?”
He arrived with his entourage just as Evelyn struggled to control the frenzied stallion.
“Serves her right,” Alexander muttered.
Ethan Sullivan observed silently, lips pressed into a thin line.
Evelyn finally guided the horse back to the stable. Blood streaked her palms from the reins’ brutal friction.
Inspecting the stallion’s flank, she discovered a tiny silver needle embedded in its flesh.
“Explain.”
Ethan’s voice cut through the air like ice.
Evelyn didn’t turn. “None of your business.”
Twilight deepened as city lights began to glow.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the glittering skyline. My reflection in the glass revealed tired eyes shadowed with unspoken worry.
My phone lit up with a message from Sean Reynolds: “Meet me at the usual place. Eight o’clock.”
My finger hovered over the screen before typing a single word in reply: “Okay.”
At 7:45, I pushed open the café door. Sean was already waiting in our usual corner, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit with his tie slightly loosened. His long fingers tapped rhythmically against the table.
“You’re here,” he said, lifting his gaze. His dark eyes were unreadable.
I took my seat just as the server arrived with a steaming latte—he still remembered my order.
“I heard you’ve been looking into the South District case,” Sean cut straight to the point.
My pulse jumped. The coffee cup burned against my palm. “How did you know?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he slid a file from his briefcase toward me. “Because I’m investigating it too.”
The words “South District Development Land Bid Case” were stamped across the cover. I flipped it open—and froze. The Jackson Group’s official seal glared back at me.
“This can’t be…” My voice shook.
Sean leaned in, lowering his voice. “The evidence is solid. The Jackson Group secured that land through illegal means. And your father—”
“Stop!” I slammed the file shut, my chest heaving.
The café lights suddenly felt too bright. The surrounding chatter faded into white noise. All I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own heartbeat—and Sean’s next words, sharp as thunder:
“Your father is the mastermind behind this.”
