Chapter 297

Miles quickly realzed he might've overstepped. He gave a quiet explanation. "Just curious, that's all."

Maybe it was the laid-back vibe that had given him the courage to ask, and the question had been out before he could stop himself. Regret had come immediately as he knew he shouldn't have been nosy.

Hannah met his eyes for a moment before looking down. She didn't mind clarifying. Her fingers traced the rim of her mug as she answered, voice steady, "Claude is not my boyfriend. He is the son my parents adopted many years ago. We basically grew up as siblings." She paused, letting the words sink in. "But eventually,hisreal family came for him, and we only got back in touch recently."

She glanced up at Miles. "Claude's like a brother to me, nothing more."

Miles arched an eyebrow, piecing things together, though something didn't quite add up. "Then how come..."

"You're wondering why he's declared he is my boyfriend?" Hannah caught on instantly, a faint smile slipping onto her face. "At that time, there were some nasty rumors about me. People said I was his mistress or something. Claude hated hearing that, so he announced that I was his girlfriend. The gossip died down after that.He's just..."

She paused, searching for the right words.′′Once Claude decides on something, he never looks back. A good heart, but reckless."

The memory of Vincent's expression that day popped into her mind-he'd been absolutely livid when he found out about her being Claude's "girlfriend." The thought brought a faint smile to her lips.

Miles was still trying to wrap his head around it."Didn't that bother you?" After all, she suddenly gained a "boyfriend" out of nowhere.

She just smiled, brushing it off. "It was a bit abrupt, sure. Took me a while to get used to it. But in some ways, it saves me a lot of trouble." Especially when it came to Vincent. Even now, knowing how he felt, she still couldn't figure him out.

She ended the topic with a quiet insistence. "Anyway, Claude is like family to me. That's all there is to it."

Yet, Miles couldn't shake off the memory of Claude's eyes on Hannah during that day at the auction.He took a slow sip of his coffee and mumbled just above a whisper, "Didn't look very brotherly from where I was sitting..."

Hannah angled her head, clearly missing what he'd said. "Hmm? Did you say something?"

"It's nothing." Miles brushed it aside. His voice turned firm. "That allergy episode with Alice? I doubt it's as straightforward as it seems. We should keep each other in the loop. Pass along anything new you discover."

He studied her, his gaze sharpening. "Whoever set this up wasn't just after Alice. Daphne got caught in the crossfire, too. The real question is, who's the actual target?"

Was this really about Daphne? Or was someone coming after Hannah? Miles couldn't quiet the whirlwind of questions spinning in his head.

Hannah's expression grew sharper, every trace of warmth gone. Deep down, her instincts told her-this was all aimed at her.

Meanwhile, inside a cramped holding cell at the precinct, Daphne was curled up on the stiff plastic chair,nerves stretched thin with each echoing step outside. Every sound set her on edge, convinced the officers were coming to interrogate her again. Ever since Elliot had left, she'd felt completely abandoned.

A female officer's voice broke through the tense silence. "Ms. Whitaker, you've got a visitor."

Daphne's head jerked up, a spark of hope flickering in her tired eyes. Her mind jumped straight to her brother. Surely, he'd come to take her home.

She practically stumbled toward the door, heart thudding. But as it creaked open and a shadow crossed the threshold, her hopeful look vanished. It wasn't Miles. In walking was a woman she didn't recognize.

It was none other than Erica.Word had already reached her that Daphne was being set up to take the fall, a scapegoat. Daphne had no idea who this woman was. She instinctively stepped back, eyes wary. "Who are you?"

Erica's lips curved into a gentle smile as she settled into a chair. "That's not important. What matters is-I'm here to help you."

"Help me?" Daphne clutched at the hem of her shirt, her voice climbing in pitch. "I don't even know you.Why would you help me?"

Erica remained unfazed by the wariness, her pleasant smile never fading. "It doesn't matter. The important thing is-we have a mutual enemy."

"Enemy?" Daphne's brows knit together, confusion clear. "Who are you talking about?"

Erica leaned in, her eyes sharp and steady as she pronounced the name slowly and clearly. "Hannah Scott."

Daphne went rigid, stunned by the name. "You also hate her? Why?" The question tumbled out, all her nerves on edge.

With practiced poise, Erica folded her legs and leaned forward, her voice dipping to a confidential whisper.

"Why do I despise her?" A soft laugh escaped her. "I just don't want to see her doing well."

Reaching into her purse, Erica pulled out a photograph and handed it over.

Daphne hesitated, but her curiosity won out. She took, studied the photo, and then her whole body froze,shock spreading across her face. With trembling hands, she latched onto Erica's wrist. "What can you do to help me?"

Erica's words flowed smoothly, sweet and persuasive. "As long as you listen to me."