The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

Molly stood awkwardly, feeling out of place. If it weren’t for Rachel insisting she come, she wouldn’t have shown up here with her limp.

Years ago, she was the center of attention. Now, she found herself in such a pitiful state.

She remained silent, looking towards Rachel, but Rachel seemed oblivious, engrossed in her conversation with Denver.

Bryan, following behind his father Jason, noticed Molly being hounded by reporters. He frowned, wanting to intervene, but Jason caught his eye and gave him a sharp look, so Bryan reluctantly stayed back.

Molly could only step in front of the cameras and put on an act of long-suffered grievance, accusing Paige before the reporters.

“By the way, Jeremy, after all these years, you might not even know who the current president is, right?” Denver remarked, as if just realizing, while placing a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and walking up to President Rafael.

Denver, known for his blunt and unfiltered manner, often spoke his mind without regard for the consequences. Though he spoke ill, others could only stew in frustration, unable to confront him directly.

Rafael was fuming internally, wishing he could give Denver a good beating, but he could only maintain a smile.

Jeremy, feigning ignorance about the current president, stood in front of Rafael and said, “I didn’t expect the current president to be so young. President Rafael, you are indeed impressive.”

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd and the flashing cameras, Rafael couldn’t afford to show any dissatisfaction.

“Mr. Jeremy, good to see you,” Rafael smiled, shaking Jeremy’s hand while trying to avoid the blinding flashes.

It felt like walking the red carpet at a celebrity event. It was exhausting.

“President Rafael is indeed young and capable. You’re not married yet, are you? You’ve been so focused on A country’s affairs. After the finance summit, you’ll be stepping down, and you’ll finally have time for your personal life. I think Rachel here would be a good match for you,” Denver said with an exaggerated, jovial tone.

“…”

Rafael cursed Denver a thousand times in his mind. How could Denver know he was stepping down before the election had even taken place?

“Hello, President,” Rachel said politely, bowing her head to Rafael.

Rafael glanced at her, smiling. “Miss Rachel, you look quite well.”

“…”

Rachel was taken aback. Was this meant to be a compliment?

“You seem quite resilient to the cold,” Rafael added nonchalantly.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Wearing an evening gown in such cold weather, did tonight feel like a fashion gala?

“…”

Rachel’s face darkened momentarily, but she forced a smile.

As the night grew darker, the lights brightened, and the camera flashes became more frequent.

“Mr. Reeves, Mr. Jeremy, it’s getting late. Shall we go inside?” Rafael urged once more. If they stayed any longer, the media would have even more to report.

Despite his clear hint, Denver and Jeremy continued to shower Rafael with praise, as if they hadn’t heard him.

Suddenly, Jeremy glanced towards Molly, who was crying before the media, and sighed. “It’s truly tragic. A child loses her mother, her father is in prison, and she’s limping. If not for my daughter taking her in, this girl would have ended up on Wind Island. And now Paige is still alive. President Rafael, don’t you think it’s pitiful?”

“…”

Pitiful, indeed.

Rafael stood there smiling, his demeanor cold. “Let’s wait until the matter is thoroughly investigated.”

“President Rafael, what’s the truth behind this? You were quite certain that the female prisoner was dead. She was a ruthless criminal. Could it be that you let her go just because she was somewhat attractive?” Denver continued to push, his eyes fixed on Rafael.

“Mr. Reeves, please be cautious with your words,” the butler interjected.

“Oh, when did the presidential office start letting butlers speak up?” Denver sneered, showing no respect.

The camera flashes were relentless.

Rafael’s smile finally faded, and he looked at Denver with a cold, detached expression. “Mr. Reeves seems very concerned about the affairs of my office.”

“President Rafael, I’m just seeking the truth. There’s nothing inappropriate about asking. The news is out, and the media is right here. Is there something you can’t say?” Denver asked with a smile.

Mr. Grissom and Jason also stepped forward, joining in the pressure. “Yes, President, what is the situation with this news?”

“Did the female prisoner really die or not?”

The group had effectively cornered Rafael, leaving him with no easy way out, their questions relentless. It seemed he had no choice but to respond.

Realizing his predicament, Rafael understood that no matter what he said-whether he claimed Paige was dead or alive-he would face backlash. If he said she was dead, it would be a lie; if he said she was alive, it would be seen as a scandal he covered up.

This was a trap laid out clearly before him.

Rafael’s expression grew colder, his grip tightening on his suit.

“Are you all just here to put on a show?”

A cold, mocking voice suddenly cut through the night air.

Everyone was startled and turned to see Enrico leaning casually against a luxury car, his dark custom suit blending into the night. He exuded a relaxed and confident demeanor, his deep-set eyes filled with mockery, commanding attention without needing to raise his voice.

Seeing him, everyone was taken aback. The media, who had been focused on the earlier commotion, hurriedly turned their cameras toward Enrico.

Rachel, standing next to Jeremy, stared at Enrico in surprise. There was something different about him since their last meeting-his aura seemed even more intense.

His appearance was as captivating as ever, enough to draw the gaze of every woman present. His looks were irresistibly striking.

“…”

Seeing Enrico, Rafael felt a wave of relief and almost wanted to run up and kiss him on the face.

Enrico straightened up and walked forward with long strides, then suddenly stopped, glancing at Molly who was still lamenting before the media. He sneered, “Is this a finance summit or a stage? If it’s a stage, then I’d like a VIP seat.”

Molly froze, her legs trembling uncontrollably as she looked at the man in the distance.

The event organizers, seeing Enrico’s displeasure, quickly signaled the security. Two guards immediately moved in and dragged Molly away.

The whimpering ceased.

Enrico sneered and walked towards Rafael, his tall, sharp-eyed figure cutting a commanding presence. The crowd instinctively parted to make way for him.

Rafael watched as Enrico approached.

Their eyes met.

Under the glaring lights, Enrico looked at the gold-rimmed glasses on Rafael’s nose and disdainfully snorted, “You let anyone make you stop. Are you still capable of handling things?”