Second Chance: Marrying into Wealth Chapter 305

"I already handed Marlowe's phone over to the cops," Jason told Christopher.

This confirmed Christopher's suspicions.

"Marlowe had her escape route all planned out. She didn't need me to step in. Summit Innovations Group hasn't done any PR because you were waiting for me to hand over the phone to the police, right?" Jason asked.

Christopher replied honestly, "Yeah."

This was also a test for Jason.

Despite his foolishness regarding Marlowe, he still valued their years of friendship and didn't let Christopher down.

In fact, even if Jason hadn't handed over the phone, Christopher had enough evidence to prove that Marlowe was the mastermind behind the scenes. But he was waiting for Jason to hand over the evidence. Luckily, he did.

"Now you can go ahead with the PR," Jason said, his tone tinged with bitterness.

"You did good this time," Christopher rarely praised.

Jason understood the underlying message. This was Christopher's way of putting an end to the recent unpleasantness between them. But he didn't feel particularly relieved or happy. He simply said, "Sorry."

Christopher didn't say anything more and hung up the phone. Sometimes silence spoke louder than words.

Christopher then gave me a direct order, "Get the PR department ready, draft a plan, and proceed according to the plan."

I immediately complied.

As I left the CEO's office, I felt a spring in my step.

I quickly connected with the PR department and informed them of Christopher's instructions. Within an hour, Summit Innovations Group's official account posted the pre-written statement online.

The statement denied any agreement between Christopher and Marlowe, clarifying that they had only signed a supplementary explanation. As for Marlowe's claims about Hayes' lifetime contract, they were baseless. Christopher had never seen or signed such a contract.

Marlowe's accusations had caused significant harm to Christopher and the company. The company reserved the right to take legal action, and the legal department would follow up on the matter. The final results and explanations would be updated on Twitter and the official website.

People online were just there for the drama. Some even posted malicious speculations, whether out of personal spite or organized efforts.

[Do these lawyer letters even matter anymore? It's just a formality, like with celebrities.]

[Are you just seeking attention? Using such a dumb brain to comment on a businessman's actions, don't embarrass yourself.]

[Weren't they a couple before? Now that things have turned sour, it's either about money or love. But it seems more like love. People used to say they were a perfect match, but now Christopher's harsh actions suggest he has a new girlfriend, and Marlowe couldn't handle it, so she retaliated against the bad man and his new girlfriend.]

[I heard Marlowe almost had a car accident, barely surviving. It must be some mistress's possessiveness that led to this. Luckily, Marlowe survived.]

[Wow, is this situation really that crazy? I thought it was just a simple kidnapping case. Who's the mistress with such charm?]

[You guys don't know, huh? It's that internet celebrity, a divorced woman!]

This comment quickly became the most popular one, visible to everyone who checked the video comments.

I clicked on it and saw the comment immediately.

With the added details—internet celebrity, divorced woman—anyone familiar with me, Marlowe, or Christopher knew who it referred to. And my most prominent label was "mistress."

Even though I tried to stay calm, the insults and mockery still stung.

I could tell this targeted comment was likely intentional, guiding people to insult me. Marlowe, the actual kidnapper, was painted as the rightful partner and a symbol of justice, while I, the victim, became the despised mistress.

Sometimes, I couldn't understand some people online. They seemed to lack independent thinking, just shells with human appearances.

Marlowe had never been with Christopher. It was all her imagination, yet these clueless netizens were having a field day.

Initially, I didn't pay much attention.

Paula came to see me, and I told her about Jason handing the evidence to the police, leading to the PR response.

Paula was pleased to hear about Jason's "awakening," realizing Marlowe never trusted him and kept him in the dark, using him as a tool.

Paula couldn't help but gloat, "Serves him right. He gave his all for Marlowe, but she didn't appreciate it and didn't trust him. He's done everything he could for her. If it were me, I'd punch and kick anyone who treated me like that, then say goodbye forever."

"Mr. Cook can't be that carefree. He's bound by his sense of morality. He can't act like you," I said, not defending Jason but stating the truth.

Paula disagreed, "If his status in the industry was truly earned through skill, he wouldn't be used like this. Morality? To reach this level, you think he has high morals? I don't believe he's that moral. He's probably done plenty of shady things. I love digging up hidden stories. I'll dig into this and share it with you."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary," I knew Paula was just talking and wouldn't actually dig into someone's privacy.

But I noticed something. I leaned closer to Paula and whispered, "Paula, you're overly focused on Mr. Cook. Do you have feelings for him?"

"Don't be ridiculous. A fool used as a tool? Don't lump me with him. It lowers my standards and intelligence. How could you think that?"

Paula poked my forehead.

I felt innocent, "Isn't it said that feelings between men and women start with interest?"

"Who said that? Don't learn nonsense. Learn something useful, like how to flirt with men!" Paula covered my mouth and gave me a lecture.

I couldn't argue with Paula, so I nodded obediently.

Paula then brought up a serious matter, "Didn't Marlowe arrange for Hayes to stay with a distant relative? Have you found them?"

I shook my head, "They're hiding well and avoiding Mr. Collins. It's not easy to find them. Mr. Collins has people searching, but no luck so far."

Paula patted her chest, "Leave it to me. Give me a photo, and I'll use my connections to find them quickly."

I believed her. Her reporters were skilled.

As we talked, we headed downstairs.

Paula drove her usual flashy red sports car. She looked particularly stylish today, attracting a lot of attention as we walked to the entrance.