CHAPTER 196: CHAPTER 196: HOLDING HANDS IN PUBLIC

Vera didn’t need to guess; the video must have been accessed by him.

He even deliberately played it publicly, slapping Vivian Langdon and the judges in the face.

Noah Grant made his way through the crowd to her side.

Under everyone’s gaze, he raised his hand, his fingertips gently brushing away a small piece of glitter from her cheek.

His fingers lightly grazed her skin, carrying a faint mature male scent.

Vera did not shy away.

This intimate gesture attracted quite a few looks.

"Thanks." Vera looked up, smiling slightly.

Noah became even more forward, leaning close to her ear, and whispered, "You’re welcome. Even without the video, the spot would have been yours."

The grainy texture of his magnetic voice brushed against her eardrum.

Vera’s breath hitched, his scent filled her nostrils, and she noticed out of the corner of her eye that many people were watching, instinctively wanting to step back a bit.

Noah grabbed her wrist, "Don’t move."

Vera: ?

"There’s confetti on your ear." With that, he blew gently, as if blowing away confetti that wasn’t really there.

Noah’s lips curled slightly, his peripheral vision sweeping over the curious gazes around them.

He wanted everyone to see that she was someone he, Noah Grant, was protective of.

As he blew, his hot breath spread over her sensitive ear, and in front of his eyes, her ear turned a rosy red, the crimson contrasting with the snowy white, incredibly alluring.

Noah’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze growing more intense.

Vera awkwardly rubbed her ear, her tone not as sharp as usual, "I’ll go remove my makeup and change clothes first."

Noah, "Okay."

As soon as she reached backstage, Vera was met by Wendy Donovan, whose face looked extremely unpleasant, yet her eyes were full of concern as she sized Vera up.

Wendy grabbed Vera’s arm, looked her over from head to toe, her voice both urgent and agitated.

"Sulfuric acid?! How dare Vivian Langdon... how dare she have such a thought?!"

Seeing Wendy’s trembling lips and her fearful look, Vera held her hand tightly, "Thankfully someone saved me in time, it was done by one of Vivian Langdon’s extreme fans..."

Wendy’s eyes reddened, and she hugged Vera tightly, patting her back.

"Just thinking about it gives me chills! If it had succeeded... your life, your stage would be completely ruined! She’s insane!"

Through her chest, Vera could feel her mentor’s rapid heartbeat, and she patted her back in return, "Teacher, there’s nothing to be afraid of now."

She didn’t expect Vivian Langdon’s jealousy to be so intense.

"Such a person doesn’t deserve to be a dancer! Using connections, creating black scenes! What do they take ballet art for? A tool for fame and gain?" Wendy said angrily, releasing Vera, "She’s brought disaster upon herself! Vivian Langdon will be utterly ruined!"

Vera swayed Wendy’s arm, smiling as she advised, "Calm down."

Meanwhile, Vivian Langdon was already being verbally attacked online.

Netizens looked at her chat records with the extreme fan "Darknight’s Justice" and immediately saw that she had deliberately hinted at him!

"This Vivian Langdon is truly evil! The extreme fan before already splashed filth on a female celebrity for her, and she said she was moved, clearly encouraging the behavior!"

"Killing with a borrowed knife, leaving no evidence, truly sinister!"

"If no substantial evidence is found, let’s all just boycott! Boycott all her endorsed brands!"

...

At the police station, in the interrogation room.

Vivian Langdon sat on a cold iron chair, her hands cuffed in front of her, the metal handcuffs weighing heavily and painfully on her slender wrists.

Her mind was still in a daze, everything before her unbelievably unfamiliar.

After all, she was the cherished heiress of The Langdon Family, the principal dancer of The National Ballet!

How did she become a prisoner?

She bit her lower lip hard, scenes from the theater flashing repeatedly in her mind.

Those shocked, disdainful, and schadenfreude looks; the fans’ faces filled with disbelief at their collapsing beliefs; and... Vera Sheridan’s cold, observant eyes!

From childhood till now, Vivian Langdon had never been treated like this.

A male and a female police officer entered, and she immediately exclaimed excitedly:

"I didn’t instruct anyone to harm Vera! I don’t know anything about sulfuric acid! This is illegal detention, I want to speak to my lawyer!"

She truly hadn’t clearly instructed "Darknight’s Justice" to harm Vera!

The male officer tapped on the table, "Miss Langdon, please calm down. We summoned you by law, and we will naturally present evidence. Now, please cooperate with us in making a statement."

The routine inquiry began.

When they asked about her private message records with "Darknight’s Justice," Vivian’s eyes flashed.

"I remember now! That day my foot was injured and inflamed, I had a fever, and I was not in good spirits, I went to bed early. My phone at that time was with my assistant Yara Paige managing it!"

"It must have been her, behind my back, who used my account to reply with those nonsensical messages!"

The two officers exchanged a glance but said nothing.

The female officer pulled a few photos from a folder and pushed them in front of her; they showed the moments when two bikers crashed into Owen Sheridan’s car.

Vivian’s heart skipped a beat, but her face remained calm.

The male officer immediately placed another set of printed documents next to the photos.

It was a screenshot of a temporary WeChat group chat, clearly showing:

Wanwan said in the group: "South gate of Westwood Hills Cemetery, there’s a black Range Rover parked there, help me damage the insurance file, generous reward."

The replies from two bikers followed: "Got it, Sister Wanwan, rest assured."

The evidence was overwhelming.

The male officer pointed at the avatar and nickname on the record, his gaze piercing, and questioned deeply:

"In this temporary WeChat group, was it also your assistant Yara using your account, creating the group, contacting the bikers, and issuing the crash-specific orders for you?"

Three successive questions from the officer, carrying immense pressure!

Making Vivian’s previous arguments seem utterly ridiculous and baseless!

Vivian’s fingertips dug into the table’s surface, then slowly, a cold smile appeared on her lips, "Officer, I don’t know what you’re talking about. My phone was in Yara’s care, shouldn’t you be asking her? Maybe she acted on her own, trying to help me, or perhaps she was instructed by someone to frame me?"

The two officers exchanged another glance.

Then, the male officer walked out, leaving an instruction: "Immediately summon Vivian Langdon’s assistant, Yara Paige!"

...

At the police station’s entrance, media reporters surrounded the black vehicle, making it impenetrable.

The long-focus lenses were almost pressed against the car windows, and the flashes were so blinding one couldn’t open their eyes.

The car door opened.

Noah Grant was the first to step out, and his upright figure immediately became the focal point.

Reporters instinctively retreated two steps.

Everyone in the media circle knew of his background, status, and low-key style; they didn’t dare offend him.

Noah’s face was expressionless as he shielded Vera from the vehicle, extending an arm to separate her from the surging crowd, protecting her as they walked into the station.

They were there to cooperate and give their statements.

"Miss Sheridan, did Vivian Langdon really instruct someone to splash sulfuric acid on you?!"

"Miss Sheridan, do you have anything else to say about the selection’s scandal?"

The reporters didn’t miss the chance to question Vera, swarming closer.

Vera instinctively tightened her grip on Noah’s arm, and in the next second, he turned his hand, interlocking his fingers with hers, leading her forward.

Their intimacy was akin to a couple.

At that moment, a sharp voice resonated loudly: "Miss Sheridan! What exactly is your relationship with Mr. Grant?!"

At the sound, Vera paused, her gaze gradually moving up from their interlocked fingers to look at Noah Grant.