?Chapter 158:


    No answer came.


    For once, Chris seemed at a loss for words, caught somewhere between thought and silence.


    Sensing that he had touched a nerve, Maxwell quickly said, “Alright, alright, forget what I asked. Anyway, Vincenzo already hired a team to recover the footage. Once it’s fixed, Miss Watson’s name will be cleared.”


    Chris’s voice came through low and steady, saying, “If this was a setup from the start, fixing the footage won’t be that easy.”


    “Come on. How good could they be?” asked Maxwell, raising an eyebrow in doubt.


    Before he could dwell on it, two hourster, Maxwell’s phone buzzed again. Vincenzo’s voice, breathless and panicked, sted through the line. “Mr. Payne, bad news! The footage — it’s beyond repair. My tech guys couldn’t recover a thing. You’ve got to help me! Without proof, thewyers can’t even file a case!”


    Maxwell’s face darkened instantly, frustration boiling under his skin. Chris had seen thising a mile away. He responded, “Alright, hold tight. I’ll figure something out.”


    Even Vincenzo’s best team couldn’t recover it. Whoever orchestrated this mess wasn’t ying games.


    Without wasting another second, Maxwell pulled out his phone and immediately dialed Chris’s number.


    Maxwell’s voice crackled through the phone, edged with urgency. “Mr. Cooper, you were right. Vincenzo’s team couldn’t recover the footage. What are your instructions?”


    Chris, calm as ever, barely paused before answering, “The cybersecurity level at L’Auréole is no joke. This must be the work of a top-tier hacker. Let’s bring in Hawk.”


    Maxwell blinked in disbelief. “Hawk? For a surveince video?” It felt like dropping a nuclear bomb to swat a fly.


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    But the longer he thought about it, the more he realized this was no minor inconvenience. If this mess spiraled any further, it would leave a stain — one Chris could not afford, not even as a whisper of rumor.


    And Chris was not the kind of man who tolerated even the smallest blemish on his name.


    “Understood,” Maxwell said, snapping to attention. “I’ll take care of it.”


    Energized by the weight of the task, he wasted no time dialing the private line for ST’s most elusive hacker.


    The moment the call connected, Maxwell inhaled slowly, steadying himself. He knew the golden rule: keep quiet. Admitting this involved Chris’s wife would be suicide.


    Saying too much would be the same as broadcasting to the world that Chris Cooper’s name was being dragged through the mud by whispers of betrayal. And if Chris caught wind of that slip, Maxwell knew he would not escape the consequences.


    Besides, no one else even knew about Chris’s marriage — except him. If Chris had chosen to keep it buried in silence, there was no way Maxwell would dare to expose it.


    Maxwell fumbled for words, scrambling to spin a convincing excuse. Stretching the truth a little, he added in a rush, “Just think of it as doing me a personal favor. Please, I’m counting on you—”


    “I’ll handle it,” interjected a low voice from the other side of the call, clipped and to the point.


    “What?” Maxwell stiffened. His jaw hung slightly open. He had not even gotten through half of what he nned to say, and Hawk had already agreed? Just like that? Since when was Hawk, of all people, this easy to sway? Despite the shock, Maxwell let out a slow breath. Whatever the reason, the mission was now secured.


    Meanwhile, the storm brewing online only grew fiercer by the second. The same socialites who first used Maia of being a gold-digger now fanned the mes even higher, stering post after post across every corner of social media.


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