Chapter 1308:


    “This is for thete warden you disgraced. You should never smear the dead,” Maia added.


    Then came a third strike, fiercer than the rest.


    Rosanna staggered back, unable to defend herself as her right cheek swelled with pain.


    “And this one,” Maia dered, her voice trembling with fury, “is for myself. Do you even understand how sacred a woman’s honor is to her?”


    Her words rippled through the hall, silencing every whisper.


    Pattie suddenly shouted, “Good strike! She deserved it!”


    Rnd rose sharply. “Rosanna, please present your evidence and stand by your words.”


    Ethan’s face reddened as he thundered, “Rosanna Morgan! What have you be? You weren’t like this when we were struggling in the slums!”


    Chris surged forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Maia, shielding her from Rosanna’s potential retaliation.


    Mnie’s eyes glistened with anger and disbelief. Her voice came out raw. “You’re lying! Maia would never do such things. You’re ndering her!”


    Hurst could no longer stay seated. He rose with a dark expression, fists clenched, eyes zing at Rosanna.


    Brielle and several others who trusted Maia stood as well, silent but resolute.


    Marisa snapped her lollipop clean in two. “Tsk! Who is that woman? She’s insufferable!”


    In the far corner, hidden beneath the dim lights, Maxwell leaned back with a faint smirk. So Chris had chosen well—he had indeed found a woman of courage.


    And as for Kiley’s attempt to end the broadcast? She could keep dreaming.


    Maxwell retrieved a miniature camera from his pocket, his movements unhurried. Within seconds, the live stream resumed.


    Lаt?st chαpt?rs in g?lnov?ls.?οm


    Viewers erupted with excitement as the frozen screen flickered back to life, revealing the charged atmosphere of the g once more.


    Rosanna clutched her cheek and sneered through the pain. “Are you panicking now? Hahaha… Do you still want to deny it? I will expose all your secrets tonight. I have evidence!”


    Her eyes darted toward the crowd. “Shiloh Hayes! What are you waiting for? Come out and testify!”


    A sharp click echoed as the side door creaked open. Shiloh stepped into the hall, moving slowly, every gaze following her entrance.


    The spotlight pivoted with dramatic precision, enveloping Shiloh in a stark pool of light that entuated his heavy, deliberate steps and the somber mask etched across his features. He wore the crisp uniform of Wront Prison warden, each crease a testament to reluctant duty.


    Reagan’s promise echoed in his mind: obey, and tomorrow he’d hear his daughter’s voice after endless silence; defy, and lose her forever.


    Five men and one woman trailed him, d in varied attire yet united by gleaming smiles that sliced through Shiloh’s brooding shadow like defiant sunlight.


    A ripple of hushed spection ignited the moment they ascended the stage.


    “Shiloh Hayes? The name rings no bells. Who is this man?” one guest murmured.


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