After the Affair: Falling into a Billionaire's Arms Chapter 63

Hazel, unexpectedly taking the blame, looked at Vivian in disbelief. She never imagined the sweet, filial Vivian she valued would push all responsibility onto her.

Recovering from her shock, she immediately contradicted Vivian, "You did all this—what does it have to do with me?"

Vivian snapped, "It was you! You said Louisa was greedy, demanding another billion dollars on top of the two billion to divorce George. You didn't want to pay, so you asked me to get rid of her."

"You're lying!" Hazel shouted back. "You were desperate to be with George and wanted to eliminate Louisa. Don't try to shift the blame to me."

"Weren't you the one who invited Louisa to the club? When she refused, you had Capulet family bodyguards kidnap her. They're witnesses!" Vivian yelled.

Hazel couldn't deny this point. Unlike Vivian, she wouldn't completely distort the truth. 

Flustered, she said, "You said you could help me save money, so I listened and had Louisa brought there. I didn't know you would do those things to her..."

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized what she'd admitted. It was too late to take it back. Everyone had heard and understood.

So Vivian and Hazel had conspired together to harm Louisa. There was no question now.

Hazel trembled with anger, glaring at Vivian, speechless with rage.

The Price family defended their daughter, blaming Hazel, "How could you, at your age, incite my daughter to harm someone? She's so young—what does she know? You must take full responsibility."

"Not so young," someone in the crowd remarked. "Your daughter is 25—legally an adult."

Hazel immediately seized on this. "Exactly. Why should I be responsible for her actions? I'm not her parent."

The Price family countered, "Because you're her elder. You can't accept her filial respect during marriage negotiations and then shirk responsibility when things go wrong."

The two families erupted into an irreconcilable argument. 

The onlookers were speechless. Who would have thought a simple birthday party would contain so many twists and turns?

Louisa hadn't expected this either—that two people, even two families who once loved each other, could turn on each other so viciously.

Indeed, money and matters of life and death revealed the ugliest aspects of human nature.

She glanced at George, who seemed stunned by each successive shock—rigid and numb. He'd lived half his life in glory, and today he was thoroughly humiliated. He must be devastated.

But this was the price of his infidelity.

Vivian, now completely stripped of her wealthy heiress dignity, her carefully styled hair in disarray, tears ruining her perfect makeup, crawled to Louisa like a madwoman.

Clutching Louisa's dress hem, she begged, "Louisa, I was wrong. I apologize. Your injuries, the poison, the HIV—I'll find people, I'll pay for your treatment.

"You love money, right? I'll give you money, lots of money. Please let me go."

The crowd fell silent. Was this how one should beg for forgiveness?

Louisa looked down at the frantic woman. "This is your last hope, isn't it? Hoping I was gang-raped, poisoned, infected with HIV. So even if you die, you'll have dragged me down with you?"

This was Vivian's malice. She didn't fear legal consequences—she feared that she might die while Louisa lived well.

So she wanted everyone to know Louisa had been poisoned, contracted HIV, and become an object of universal disgust.

But...

Louisa smiled softly. "Sorry to disappoint you. Someone rescued me last night. Those men didn't succeed as you hoped. And I will report this to the police.

"You'll go to prison and suffer for the rest of your life, paying a terrible price for what you've done."

Her tone turned icy with the final words. Vivian shuddered involuntarily, frightened by Louisa's tone.

When George heard Louisa's words, a spark of light appeared in his lifeless eyes. He immediately approached her, trying to take her hand.

She stepped back without hesitation, avoiding his touch.

George could only lower his hand, looking at her hopefully. "Is it true? They didn't..."

"Impossible!" Before George could finish, Vivian angrily interrupted.

She glared at Louisa with venom. "Last night you were injected with anesthetic and aphrodisiac. You couldn't move. I reserved the entire floor—nobody would go there, let alone rescue you.

"Unless it was some divine intervention, but is that possible? Is it?"

Louisa didn't immediately answer. Vivian's words brought Julian's image to her mind—that tall, radiant, brilliant figure who had rescued her three times.

First, when David dragged her into a hotel room attempting to rape her. 

Second, when she was trapped in a burning room.

Third, when she was drugged, locked in a room with men intending to violate her.

She didn't know why he always appeared at the perfect moment, like descending from heaven when she was most desperate.

All these images merged, leaving only his approaching figure.

She smiled gently, no longer cold or murderous, but with a touch of tenderness. "If you want to call him a divine being, so be it. He truly is my guardian angel."

As she said this, she forgot that this "angel" stood right behind her. 

Hearing her words, Julian looked at her back and smiled slightly. At least she was grateful.

But Vivian couldn't accept this reality, shrieking, "That's impossible! Even if someone tried to save you, they couldn't appear at exactly the right moment. You must have been raped, you must have..."

Her shrill cries were filled with rage.

The crowd began whispering. Being part of high society, they all knew the Dawnlight Club—remote, highly private, famous for respecting client confidentiality.

So Vivian was probably telling the truth.

Seeing Louisa's silence, Vivian thought she'd guessed correctly and shouted, "I'm right, aren't I? You just don't want George to know you're tainted, right? You made all this up!

"You're lying to me! If not, bring your savior out here!"