Chapter 302

The accusation hung heavy in the air. "Even if you refuse to admit it, how do you explain the outfit in the video?" The woman's voice cut through the murmurs. "Everyone knows that designer dress was a personal gift from Mr. Julian Kensington. Sure, he could've commissioned a duplicate, but why would he do such a thing to his own flesh and blood?"

The crowd murmured in agreement.

"Exactly! Julian is Seraphina's brother. What possible motive would he have?"

"And didn't you see how protective Julian's been of Olivia? First the extravagant gifts, now this public defense."

"This is beyond cruel. Even with their rivalry, this crosses every line."

"You're all blind. She's jealous because Seraphina had everything while she suffered under the Blackwoods."

"That's not Seraphina's fault. Her mother chose to leave and never came back. If I were Alistair, I wouldn't welcome her either."

Alistair Kensington's coughing fit erupted violently. "Enough of this nonsense! Olivia would never do such a thing! Remove anyone spreading these vile rumors immediately! Donovan, escort them out at once!"

The elderly man swayed dangerously, his face turning an alarming shade of red.

The grand ballroom descended into pandemonium.

Olivia Sinclair felt her throat tighten at the depth of Alistair's unwavering faith in her.

Through the chaos, her gaze locked with Julian's. The smug satisfaction in his eyes sent ice through her veins.

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Seraphina was Julian's biological sister, for heaven's sake! And with Seraphina's congenital heart condition, that plunge into the fountain could have been fatal.

The pieces clicked together. Julian must have tampered with the gown meant for her. She'd always known him to be calculating, but this? Their feud had never involved him directly. What kind of monster would endanger his own sister just to frame her?

The officers approached with grim expressions. "Miss Sinclair, we'll need you to come with us. Miss Kensington remains hospitalized, and you're clearly identifiable in the security footage. We have questions."

Alistair surged forward, his frail body trembling with outrage. "How dare you! Who authorized this? That's my granddaughter!" His watery eyes darted wildly as another coughing spell wracked his frame.

The policemen exchanged uncertain glances.

Donovan Kensington recognized the signs of his uncle's deteriorating condition. "Winston," he barked at the butler, "take my uncle to his quarters immediately."

In his confused state, Alistair clutched at Olivia's sleeve. "Vivienne, please," he begged, tears streaming down his weathered face. "I was wrong. Don't leave me again. Come home where you belong."

Olivia's vision blurred as she gently pried his fingers loose. Her phone's synthesized voice filled the tense silence: "Grandfather, I'm not going anywhere. I promise I'll return. But you need to rest now, or I might just disappear like Mother did."

The threat, delivered in that emotionless digital tone, had the intended effect. Alistair allowed Winston to lead him away, though his pleading gaze never left Olivia's face until the elevator doors closed.

The officers hesitated, their hands hovering near their cuffs. Olivia straightened her spine and extended her wrists in silent surrender. The gasps around her were almost comical.

As the cold metal clasped around her wrists, Julian's smirk widened. Olivia met his gaze squarely, her own eyes burning with silent fury. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The walk through the gawking crowd felt endless. Flashbulbs popped. Whispers slithered through the opulent ballroom like venomous snakes. But Olivia Sinclair held her head high. She'd survived worse. And she'd be damned if she let Julian Kensington destroy everything she'd fought so hard to rebuild.

The police cruiser's door slammed shut with finality. Through the tinted window, Olivia watched the Kensington estate shrink into the distance. Somewhere in that mansion, Alistair was probably raging against his caretakers. Donovan would be scrambling to contain the damage. And Julian? Julian would be celebrating his temporary victory.

Olivia's fingers curled into fists. Let him enjoy it while he could. Because when she got out—and she would get out—she'd make sure Julian Kensington regretted ever crossing her.