Chapter 317

Buzz! Claude's phone vibrated with another message from Hannah. "Claude, please take care of my parents. Just tell them I'm away on a short business trip, so they won't worry."

Claude immediately tried calling Hannah, but every call failed to connect.

"Huh..." Claude let out a bitter laugh, frustration and anger threading through the sound.

Ever since news of her release, he'd resisted the urge to rush to her side-all because he wanted to give her a perfect gift: the "truth" that would clear her name for good. He was ready to pay any price for this.

He hadn't really slept in days. Every waking hour, he'd thrown himself into building a rock-solid case to exonerate Hannah.

He'd rented out an entire floor of an exhibition hall, painstakingly reconstructing the makeup room and backstage area labeled as the′′pcoisoning scenee"-matching every camera angle, every light, every trash can, even the way the tiles reflected the glow. He'd found a desperate gambler, buried under debt, who owed him a fortune.

Claude had offered him a deal he couldn't refuse-to become the scapegoat for Alice's allergy incident.

The man had reenacted the scene on camera repeatedly until Claude was satisfied.

It took a massive toll on Claude's time and resources. He'd imagined the surprise in Hannah's eyes when she saw the evidence-maybe even admiration, maybe a new kind of trust.

But now? He'd called her, only to realize she was already with Vincent. Just hearing that left him reeling.

Bang! The glass in Claude's hand smashed against the wall, the expensive screen opposite him cracking into a spiderweb of damage.

At that moment, a cautious knock came. Owen stepped in, his voice tight with unease. "Mr. Hobbes, the plan's in motion. That man is ready to turn himself in within the hour." Claude spun, voice cold as ice. "Delay it."

Owen stared in shock. "D-Delay? But every/thing's set. If we hold off now-"

A humorless smile flickered on Claude's lips. "I said delay it. Didn't you hear me?"

Owen flinched, head bowing quickly. "Understood."

Meanwhile,Hannah and Vincent approached the factory gates at a measured pace.

"Stop! What do you want?" The security guard blocked their path, barking out his challenge.

Hannah's heart jumped, but her expression stayed composed. "Sir, we're here looking for work. We heard the factory's hiring and wanted to apply."

As she spoke, she nudged Vincent's arm with her elbow-a silent cue to play along.

The guard looked them up and down, suspicion clear in his eyes. "Looking for work, huh? What's your relationship?"

Hannah answered, "We're siblings."

Vincent, at the same time, said, "Husband and wife."

Their voices overlapped awkwardly.

The guard stared at them, incredulous. "One says siblings, the other says husband and wife." He raised his voice. "Are you playing games with me? Tell me the truth!"

He stepped closer, baton in hand, the threat obvious.

Hannah frowned. Such a small factory, yet so vigilant?

Vincent spoke up, voice low and calm but edged with steel. "She's just shy. We're married."

Playing along,Hannah gave him a playful smack on the arm. The guard hesitated but, with staffing shortages, eventually waved them forward toward HR.

The HR manager, Doyle Burgess, jotted down some notes on their forms, sizing them up. He seemed satisfied with Hannah, but as his gaze landed on Vincent, he hesitated. "This is dirty, backbreaking work.The smell isn't for everyone. Is your man up for it?"

Hannah's pulse raced. She forced a bright smile, answering quickly,"H′up for anything. Works hard,never complains-just a bit quiet, that's all."

She nudged Vincent again.

Vincent finally looked up, offering asimple grunt in agreement.

Doyle weighed his options. With so many workers recently transferred out, he decided to let Carville Graves,take them for a half-day trial.

But as they walked away, something nagged at Doyle. Suddenly, he realized-neither was wearing a wedding ring. He called out, "Wait."

Hannah and Vincent stoppoed in their tracks.

Doyle fixed them with a hard stare. "You say you're married, but neither of you has a wedding ring.Security,detain them!"

Around them, employees paused and slowly began to gather, curiosity piqued.

Hannah's hand moved toward her bracelet, ready to call for help, but Vincent stopped her, taking her hand."We actually do have them," he said.