At any rate, navigating their existences beneath a shared roof was a dynamic they had executed on countless occasions during their youth; she perceived absolutely no structural necessity to display an awkward, fragile hesitation at this juncture, an attitude that would merely project a sense of hypocritical affection.

Concluding her morning routine and transitioning into casual attire, Chloe descended the staircase to enter the main living area. She noted Julian seated upon the plush sofa, his attention trained onto a financial periodical, while the large television screen anchored across the room was broadcasting the mid-day news.

Registering the acoustic resonance of her footsteps, Julian shifted his gaze to greet her form: "You have finally awoken? Had I possessed foresight regarding your state today, I would have absolutely prohibited you from consuming such a volume last night."

Chloe offered a sheepish nod of agreement. In absolute reality, her excessive consumption on the previous evening had been driven entirely by the bleak emotional weight elicited by her confrontation with Lyndsey.

Before she could manage to articulate a verbal reply, a distinct, rumbling protest erupted from the depths of her stomach.

Clamping a hand over her midsection, she trained her eyes onto Julian, her face instantaneously flushing with a wave of intense embarrassment.

Julian looked up from his reading, his features completely saturated with amusement: "Your biological patterns have remained completely identical from your youth to the present day; this is by no means the first instance I have been made aware of this reality."

The embarrassment masking Chloe’s features softened significantly upon hearing his words: "My consumption last night was entirely too dense, leaving me thoroughly famished today."

Julian closed the financial periodical resting within his lap and rose to his feet: "I have already instructed Madam Zhang to execute the necessary culinary preparation; the meal ought to achieve readiness in a fraction of a second."

She offered a nod of gratitude, stepping forward to pour herself a glass of hot water.

At that exact instant, the anchor's voice cut through the air from the television screen: "Early this morning, maritime recovery teams successfully extracted a male corpse from the waters of the local harbor. The preliminary medical evaluation dictates death by drowning, with current hypotheses pointing toward an accidental fall into the ocean. The exact details surrounding the incident remain under rigorous, ongoing investigation."

Chapter 27: Property

The atmospheric conditions within the room appeared to plummet by several degrees alongside the broadcast of this specific news bulletin.

Chloe noted that the deceased individual displayed upon the television screen was clad in a heavy overcoat adorned with a mink collar, projecting an aura of immense familiarity.

She merely executed a brief structural search across the depths of her memory before the identification returned to her consciousness with absolute clarity.

Was this not the exact male specimen she had observed navigating his way around the parameters of the external parking lot the previous evening?

During their arrival on the prior night, she had already registered his presence as exceptionally suspicious.

Discerning the peculiar shift in Chloe’s emotional state, Julian cast an analytical glance toward her form, his brow creasing slightly: "Whatever is the matter? Do you possess some baseline knowledge regarding this individual?"

She instinctively initiated a negative shake of her head, yet paused briefly before offering a nod of confirmation: "Yesterday evening, while we were navigating our arrival at the charity gala, I observed this specific individual loitering adjacent to the perimeter of the parking facilities."

Furthermore, at that particular juncture, the man had displayed absolutely no behavioral indications of intoxication, appearing thoroughly lucid as if he were actively anchored to the spot awaiting the arrival of a specific party.

In the subsequent fraction of a second, an intense, sudden chill rippled across her entire frame as her consciousness automatically resurrected the image of Lyndsey shrouded entirely in a heavy black garment.

Could it be possible that the occurrence of this tragedy bore an absolute correlation to Lyndsey's maneuvers?

Or rather, was the physical silhouette and partial profile she had monitored sweeping down the coastal pathway not a manifestation of Lyndsey at all? Could her own eyes have committed a profound error of identification?

As her thoughts swirled in chaos, Julian’s expression darkened significantly by her side: "Did your eyes happen to bear witness to some specific event last night?"

Chloe collected her scattered cognitive faculties, her delivery laced with a trace of uncertainty: "Yesterday afternoon, when I retreated to the interior of your vehicle to secure my smartphone, my vision locked onto a female figure clad in a heavy black trench coat whose silhouette bore an immense resemblance to Lyndsey. However, the moment I concluded my wardrobe transition and entered the main facilities, I observed her standing within the primary hall of the gala once more."

Julian trained his focus onto the digital footage looping across the television screen, his brow furrowing tightly into a deep crease: "As a matter of fact, my intelligence network delivered a basic summary regarding the deceased to my attention early this morning. The individual's legal name is Matthew Vance, though the street denizens universally addressed him as Boss Lee. He was nothing more than a common thug who routinely subjected the personnel to intense harassment back during the era when I operated within those lower-tier establishments."

The reality of this man's violent demise was by no means an anomalous occurrence; after all, he had actively offended an immense volume of volatile factions throughout his existence, making it entirely within reason for an adversary to harbor a lethal, vengeful malice against his life.

However, if the narrative truly incorporated the maneuvers of Lyndsey...

The two individuals executed a simultaneous turn to lock eyes with one another, the unspoken deduction passing between their consciousness with absolute clarity.

Concluding their mid-day meal, Chloe received a telephonic connection initiated by the senior family butler, instructing her form to navigate her way to the corporate headquarters to officially assume management of the massive estate bequeathed by the late patriarch, while simultaneously facilitating a formal introduction before the collective shareholders of the conglomerate.

She delivered a basic summary of the mandate to Julian, who recognized the logical reality that it was entirely inappropriate for his outside presence to aggressively participate within these internal corporate matters. Consequently, he merely escorted her form to the perimeter of the corporate high-rise.

"I shall remain anchored at this location to await your return. Should you encounter any structural difficulties, initiate a connection to my device immediately." Prior to her exiting the vehicle, Julian couldn't prevent a deep wave of worry from clouding his gaze as he addressed her form.

Lest anyone forget, the collective members of that family faction were the absolute epitome of ravenous wolves and treacherous leopards; there was not a solitary individual among them who was characterized by a gentle disposition.

For her presence to suddenly materialize from absolute obscurity and lay claim to a staggering one-fourth of the total corporate shares of the conglomerate—particularly when her status could only be legally classified as an total outsider—was a reality that the entrenched executives would find entirely impossible to swallow with grace.

This exact reality was something Chloe recognized perfectly well within her own consciousness. Yet, she possessed an absolute, desperate need to secure these shares and anchor this property within her grasp. This motivation was by no means driven by a vulgar display of material greed, but rather rooted in the fundamental logic that only by transforming her own existence into a formidable power could she hope to secure absolute vengeance for Zack.

The current Lyndsey was a completely transformed entity compared to her historical self; she had long ceased to be the fragile, vulnerable street delinquent of her youth. According to the deep intelligence reports extracted by Julian’s network, Lyndsey's most formidable contemporary anchor was none other than the collective power of the family empire.

Click— Chloe depressed the mechanism, swinging the heavy mahogany barrier open to enter the grand boardroom, only to find the expansive space already heavily populated by a dense gathering of corporate personnel.

Prior to her arrival, the interior atmosphere had been intensely animated, with voices raised in passionate debate, yet the exact fraction of a second she breached the threshold, an absolute, freezing silence blanketed the entire room.

Anchored directly at the head of the massive conference table was Eric's stepmother, Isabella.

Throughout the three years she had spent bound to Eric within the confines of matrimony, though she had secured absolutely nothing in the way of emotional validation, she had managed to acquire a remarkably comprehensive understanding regarding the internal factions of the empire.

For instance, this specific woman, Isabella, was the absolute antithesis of Eric's corporate interests; the two of them had engaged in a vicious, covert war for absolute dominance over the course of decades, and the woman's capacity for calculated strategy and profound malice was truly exceptional.

Seated directly adjacent to Isabella's form was a male specimen adorned in remarkably ostentatious, flamboyant luxury attire—Eric's younger half-brother, Charles, who was universally recognized as nothing more than a hedonistic, profligate trust-fund playboy who cared for absolutely nothing aside from a lifestyle of debauchery and excess.