Chapter 568 Leave None
"Looks like I was right," Michael said, giving Emma a knowing look. "Someone's been causing trouble behind the scenes."
After the crisis was averted, Emma sat in Michael's car, accepting the water he handed her. She studied Michael thoughtfully.
His timing was just too perfect.
But Emma kept her thoughts to herself.
Michael seemed to sense her suspicion and explained, "I got an anonymous tip that someone was planning to harm you. I thought we could use it to catch the mastermind. Didn't expect them to go this low."
Meanwhile, in a black sedan parked at the corner, Wanda was shaking with rage. She smashed the champagne glass in her hand. "Useless! A bunch of useless idiots!"
Phoenix nervously handed her a tablet. "We just got word that our people have been captured."
A flicker of panic crossed Wanda's eyes. "Contact Kieran immediately! Tell him the plan has changed!"
In a luxury apartment on the other side of the city, Kieran was leisurely sipping red wine. He watched the surveillance footage of Michael's heroic rescue with a playful smile.
"Interesting," he said, raising his glass to the screen. "Michael played his move well."
Chase, standing behind him, was puzzled. "Kieran, wasn't our plan to ruin Emma's reputation? How come..."
Kieran chuckled. "You misunderstand. Our goal was never just to tarnish one person's name. We aim to bring down the reputation of this entire city."
He turned to another screen, which showed Maeve receiving a large bank transfer.
"Tell Mrs. Harrington to hold another press conference tomorrow," Kieran said with a smile. "Claim that Emma threatened her into a suicide attempt for sympathy."
The next morning, the headlines of every major media outlet in Sunrise City were dominated by explosive news, "High Official's Wife Maeve Accuses Emma of Death Threats."
At the press conference, Maeve, looking pale and trembling, played a recording, "If you dare to tell the truth, I'll make your life a living hell," a voice eerily similar to Emma's said menacingly. The recording quickly went viral online, and combined with photos of Michael's "heroic rescue" from the previous day, public opinion turned sharply against Emma. People began to criticize, "She's a real femme fatale!" "Even Michael is wrapped around her finger!" "Such a woman deserves to be condemned by everyone!"
At the Sunrise City International Conference Center, the 500-seat press room was packed. Maeve, accompanied by two lawyers, took the stage. She had deliberately applied makeup to look haggard and coughed occasionally, appearing particularly frail.
"Dear media friends..." she began, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm risking my life today to expose Emma's true nature."
Just then, the doors to the hall burst open. Michael, dressed in a navy blue suit, strode in with a team of technicians. Following closely behind was George, leaning on a cane, his stern face betraying no emotion, his smart glasses reflecting a cold light.
"Mrs. Harrington," Michael's voice echoed through the microphone, "are you sure that recording is genuine?"
Maeve's face changed slightly. "Of course it's real."
George signaled to the technicians, who immediately began working on their computers. "Everyone, please look at the screen. This is our voice analysis."
On the large screen, two waveforms were displayed clearly. The technician pointed to key points. "The so-called 'threat' in the recording is a splice of three different recordings. And..." He zoomed in on one segment. "Here, there's a 0.3-second electronic noise, a sign of post-production editing."
The room erupted in chaos. Reporters raised their cameras, and flashes went off continuously.
Michael turned to Maeve, his gaze sharp as a knife. "Mrs. Harrington, do you have anything else to say?"
Cold sweat beaded on Maeve's forehead, and her hands trembled uncontrollably. "I was forced..." She suddenly clutched her chest, her face contorted in pain. "Someone paid me to..."
At that critical moment, Maeve's eyes widened, and black blood trickled from her mouth. She staggered a few steps before collapsing on the stage.
"Call an ambulance!" Michael shouted urgently.
But it was too late. The accompanying doctor checked her and shook his head. "No signs of life. Preliminary judgment is acute heart failure caused by some neurotoxin."
The scene descended into chaos. Some reporters screamed and ran out, while others frantically captured the horrifying moment.
In a corner of the hall, Phoenix, wearing a baseball cap and mask, calmly recorded everything. She pulled out her phone and sent an encrypted message: [Mission accomplished.]
Kieran's reply came quickly: [Well done. Meet at the usual place tonight. I have a new task for you.]
A sick thrill flashed in Phoenix's eyes. This was her first successful kill. The feeling of controlling another's life made her shiver with excitement.
In the VIP lounge, George and Michael sat together, analyzing the situation—a rare truce for Emma's sake.
"The timing of the poisoning was too precise," George tapped his fingers on the table. "It was clearly meticulously planned."
Michael nodded. "I checked Maeve's schedule. Three days ago, she met with a woman wearing a baseball cap." He pulled up a surveillance screenshot. "Though the face isn't clear, the figure..."
"Who?" George asked.
"Can't you see?" Michael was still probing.
"You should ask my doctor that question," George snapped, clearly irritated.
"Phoenix," Michael said coldly. "Your long-lost cousin."
"She hasn't changed a bit!"
George dialed a number. "Initiate 'Operation Clean Sweep.'"
At the Sunrise City Hospital morgue, the coroner was performing an autopsy on Maeve. When he opened her stomach, he found remnants of a micro-capsule.
"This toxin..." The coroner's face was grave. "It's a lab-made slow-release poison. It activates precisely 72 hours after ingestion, with almost no antidote."
He immediately reported this finding to the police. Meanwhile, Michael's informant within the police department also received the news.
As night fell, in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city, Kieran personally poured Phoenix a glass of red wine.
"How does it feel to kill for the first time?" he asked with a sly smile.
Phoenix's hands trembled slightly, but her eyes shone with a strange light. "More wonderful than I imagined."
Kieran nodded in satisfaction. "You've finally grown. Next, your task is to protect yourself." He whispered a few words in Phoenix's ear.
Phoenix's pupils contracted. "You want Wanda to take the fall?"
"Don't you?" Kieran gently caressed her cheek. "With her out of the picture, you'll have your chance to shine, won't you?"
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