?Chapter 807:
But Ste knew better. Amon was waiting—watching—for the right moment. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down.
That evening, just as she wrapped up an experiment, her phone buzzed. A message from the Carter family’s butler lit up her screen—polite, formal. “Ms. Russell, your grandfather requests your presence at dinner tomorrow night. He says it concerns an important family matter.”
Ste stared at the screen, frowning slightly.
A Carter family dinner?
She had only just reunited with the Carters. Other than Lance and Karson, she hardly knew anyone there.
Something about the invitation felt off, as if trouble were waiting for her at the table.
She remembered how Karson had once questioned her about William. Was this dinner just another way to drag her into the Briggs family mess?
Ste wasn’t thrilled, but she didn’t have a choice. She was a Carter now.
Dinners like that were unavoidable.
She sent back a quick “okay” and dropped her phone into her bag.
Lately, it felt like she was cursed—trouble just kept stacking up, smothering her.
Meanwhile, across town, the high-security forensic bureau buzzed with a different kind of tension.
Inside a brightly lit, restrictedboratory, Professor Ritchie—well into his seventies but still sharp as a de—was hunched over a set of cutting-edge machines.
On the enormous monitor before him, waveforms and data points flickered like a storm, shifting faster than most people could follow.
To an untrained eye, it was pure chaos.
Outside the bulletproof ss, Luca stood rigid, his gaze locked on Professor Ritchie’s every move.
His palms were damp, his body stiff from hours of waiting, but he didn’t dare rx.<fn0f5d> Follow current nov?ls on Find[?]ovel</fn0f5d>
Not when everything hinged on the results of that reel. Earlier, Professor Ritchie had carefully loaded an old film reel into a high-precision scanner. Since then, Luca had lost track of time. His legs were numb, but his nerves kept him standing.
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Suddenly, Professor Ritchie’s hands stilled. He adjusted his sses, zooming in on one magnified section of the film. His brows furrowed, his expression darkening with confusion.
Luca’s pulse quickened. He mmed the inte. “Sir, did you find something?”
Professor Ritchie didn’t answer right away. He kept tweaking the settings, muttering under his breath. “Strange… the scratches here, they don’t look natural. And this letter—blurred… is that an O? Or a D? Or…”
His voice carried a rare professional skepticism, unusual for him to be so stumped by an old piece of evidence. Luca’s heart sank. Had the film been damaged?
If this crucial piece of evidence couldn’t be restored, if the culprit’s identity stayed hidden, then how was he supposed to face William?
“Professor Ritchie, please,” Luca pressed, desperation seeping into his voice. “You have to make the image clearer!”
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