Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 102: Chapter 102
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"What's wrong with you?" Clara noticed something was off with my emotions, frowning as she looked at me. "You still look troubled."
I gently rubbed my temples, unable to pinpoint what was wrong, but I just felt this matter wasn't so simple.
"Victoria has the Hayes family behind her," I said in a low voice. "Plus the Cavendish family has been grooming her as their daughter-in-law from the beginning. They can't possibly do nothing."
"You mean..."
"If the two families join forces to protect her," I looked out the window, my heart sinking further, "I wouldn't rule out them finding other 'evidence,' or even finding a scapegoat to completely clear her of this matter."
In that case, Victoria would be completely off the hook.
Everything would return to square one.
Clara frowned, "Don't overthink it. Those two kidnappers have already confessed about Victoria. How could she still escape? Impossible."
I nodded lightly but didn't speak.
I hoped so.
Third Person Perspective
At this moment, Arnold sat alone in his car, the cabin eerily quiet.
When he looked down, he found a piece of candy that had fallen on the car seat—one he had bought for Elodie earlier, probably slipped out of the bag accidentally.
He reached out to pick up the candy. The colorful candy wrapper refracted brilliant light in the sunlight, and the candy inside was crystal clear, like a small piece of crystal.
He held the candy, his fingertips slightly tightening, his expression unconsciously becoming somewhat dazed.
After a long while, he leaned his head against the seat back and slowly closed his eyes, seemingly resting, but his mind was actually churning with scene after scene:
Elodie blurting out "Mommy" in terror;
Paisley rushing into the seawater regardless of her own safety to save Elodie;
Olivia telling him about the almost identical birthmarks on Paisley and Elodie;
And—the paternity test report clearly stating "no blood relation."
Arnold's brow unconsciously furrowed tightly, emotions surging like waves, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
The car window was gently tapped, interrupting his thoughts.
He opened his eyes and slowly lowered the window, seeing Neil standing outside.
"Boss, we found out," Neil began his report. "The gentleman who rescued Miss Reynolds last night is called Dominic Walker. He's the behind-the-scenes owner of a top British auction house, which is Miss Reynolds' boss. Based on current information, there's no special relationship between them."
Arnold raised an eyebrow slightly, "That's all?"
"That's all." Neil nodded.
Just boss and subordinate? He didn't believe it.
As a man himself, he could see at a glance what was hidden in Walker's eyes when he looked at Paisley.
And Paisley's trust in Walker far exceeded that of an ordinary subordinate toward their boss. Their relationship was definitely not as simple as it appeared on the surface.
"What about the other matter?"
"Regarding the people who kidnapped Elodie, they're habitual traffickers that the police have been pursuing for a long time, having committed many cases over the years. The police suspect they weren't targeting any specific individual, but randomly selecting their targets."
Arnold narrowed his eyes, his expression growing increasingly grim: "You mean—kidnapping Elodie was likely just her bad luck, happening to be targeted?"
"Yes, I asked the police, and their methods are usually similar. They typically infiltrate residential areas, schools, parks, playgrounds and other places children frequent, disguise themselves as various people, destroy surveillance when people are off guard, and take children away without anyone knowing. By the time adults notice, they've long disappeared without a trace."
Arnold furrowed his brow tightly, a deep doubt flashing in his eyes.
Victoria was a Hayes family heiress—how could she have contact with these low-level traffickers? It didn't make sense no matter how he thought about it.
Neil glanced at him and asked hesitantly: "Sir, Miss Hayes is still at the police station. Are you... planning to save her?"
Arnold was silent for a moment, his voice low and calm: "No. Let the police continue investigating, and you keep watching too."
Neil nodded, but felt even more uncertain. He really couldn't figure out whether Arnold still wanted to save Victoria or not.
At this time, inside the Hayes family villa.
Fiona paced back and forth in the living room, her face anxious, her footsteps echoing in the oppressive space.
Raymond, sitting on the sofa, appeared much more composed, his expression calm as if everything was under control.
"Think of something quickly!" Fiona couldn't help but speak, her voice lowered but unable to hide her anxiety. "Victoria has already been taken to the police station!"
I gently rubbed my temples, unable to pinpoint what was wrong, but I just felt this matter wasn't so simple.
"Victoria has the Hayes family behind her," I said in a low voice. "Plus the Cavendish family has been grooming her as their daughter-in-law from the beginning. They can't possibly do nothing."
"You mean..."
"If the two families join forces to protect her," I looked out the window, my heart sinking further, "I wouldn't rule out them finding other 'evidence,' or even finding a scapegoat to completely clear her of this matter."
In that case, Victoria would be completely off the hook.
Everything would return to square one.
Clara frowned, "Don't overthink it. Those two kidnappers have already confessed about Victoria. How could she still escape? Impossible."
I nodded lightly but didn't speak.
I hoped so.
Third Person Perspective
At this moment, Arnold sat alone in his car, the cabin eerily quiet.
When he looked down, he found a piece of candy that had fallen on the car seat—one he had bought for Elodie earlier, probably slipped out of the bag accidentally.
He reached out to pick up the candy. The colorful candy wrapper refracted brilliant light in the sunlight, and the candy inside was crystal clear, like a small piece of crystal.
He held the candy, his fingertips slightly tightening, his expression unconsciously becoming somewhat dazed.
After a long while, he leaned his head against the seat back and slowly closed his eyes, seemingly resting, but his mind was actually churning with scene after scene:
Elodie blurting out "Mommy" in terror;
Paisley rushing into the seawater regardless of her own safety to save Elodie;
Olivia telling him about the almost identical birthmarks on Paisley and Elodie;
And—the paternity test report clearly stating "no blood relation."
Arnold's brow unconsciously furrowed tightly, emotions surging like waves, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
The car window was gently tapped, interrupting his thoughts.
He opened his eyes and slowly lowered the window, seeing Neil standing outside.
"Boss, we found out," Neil began his report. "The gentleman who rescued Miss Reynolds last night is called Dominic Walker. He's the behind-the-scenes owner of a top British auction house, which is Miss Reynolds' boss. Based on current information, there's no special relationship between them."
Arnold raised an eyebrow slightly, "That's all?"
"That's all." Neil nodded.
Just boss and subordinate? He didn't believe it.
As a man himself, he could see at a glance what was hidden in Walker's eyes when he looked at Paisley.
And Paisley's trust in Walker far exceeded that of an ordinary subordinate toward their boss. Their relationship was definitely not as simple as it appeared on the surface.
"What about the other matter?"
"Regarding the people who kidnapped Elodie, they're habitual traffickers that the police have been pursuing for a long time, having committed many cases over the years. The police suspect they weren't targeting any specific individual, but randomly selecting their targets."
Arnold narrowed his eyes, his expression growing increasingly grim: "You mean—kidnapping Elodie was likely just her bad luck, happening to be targeted?"
"Yes, I asked the police, and their methods are usually similar. They typically infiltrate residential areas, schools, parks, playgrounds and other places children frequent, disguise themselves as various people, destroy surveillance when people are off guard, and take children away without anyone knowing. By the time adults notice, they've long disappeared without a trace."
Arnold furrowed his brow tightly, a deep doubt flashing in his eyes.
Victoria was a Hayes family heiress—how could she have contact with these low-level traffickers? It didn't make sense no matter how he thought about it.
Neil glanced at him and asked hesitantly: "Sir, Miss Hayes is still at the police station. Are you... planning to save her?"
Arnold was silent for a moment, his voice low and calm: "No. Let the police continue investigating, and you keep watching too."
Neil nodded, but felt even more uncertain. He really couldn't figure out whether Arnold still wanted to save Victoria or not.
At this time, inside the Hayes family villa.
Fiona paced back and forth in the living room, her face anxious, her footsteps echoing in the oppressive space.
Raymond, sitting on the sofa, appeared much more composed, his expression calm as if everything was under control.
"Think of something quickly!" Fiona couldn't help but speak, her voice lowered but unable to hide her anxiety. "Victoria has already been taken to the police station!"
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 102. Continue reading Chapter 103 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.