CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER 42: BLAKE SINCLAIR, DO YOU DARE LEAVE WITH ME?

A few employees gathered together, staring at their phones and whispering.

They occasionally looked up, casting strange, disdainful glances at Holly Crowe.

Just moments ago, a set of photos had been sent to the company’s entire mailing list.

In the photos, Holly Crowe was half-embraced by a man as they entered a hotel. The man’s face was cropped out, showing only a blurry back, yet her face was captured clearly.

The photos, taken from a cunning angle, were interpreted as an indecent entanglement.

"Who would have thought that Secretary Crowe negotiates deals in such ’special ways’?"

"So this is what President Pence meant by ’silent support’?"

"If Zion Pence really marries a woman like this, won’t he become the laughingstock of the circle?"

Holly Crowe’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her phone.

Yet another baseless accusation, each filthier than the last.

She clenched her fist, but as she lifted her eyes, she met Mia Chapelle’s gaze from the corner.

She gently stroked her stomach, looking like she was enjoying the show.

Seeing Holly Crowe look over, she made an insincere mouthing of ’sorry’.

Everything was clear!

The two of them truly were a perfect match!

In the center of the crowd, Zion Pence was still playing his part as a deeply affectionate man, completely unaware of being in the eye of the storm.

When the reporter pressed again about his partner’s identity, he feigned shyness, then pretended to speak tenderly, "She is....."

"President Pence!"

Daniel Alden hastily squeezed in, gesturing at the reporters to wait a moment, whispered something in Zion Pence’s ear, and even showed him the phone.

The smile on Zion Pence’s face instantly stiffened, his complexion gradually darkening.

He lifted his eyes to look at Holly Crowe, his expression complex.

Holly Crowe met his gaze, not flinching.

"President Pence, you still haven’t said who your fiancée is!" the reporter pressed on relentlessly.

Zion Pence’s lips moved silently, the two words almost on the tip of his tongue, yet they were stuck in his throat.

Everyone around held their breath, their eyes darting between the two.

Those watching the spectacle were waiting for his answer, to see if he’d continue the charade or tear it apart entirely!

Zion Pence opened his mouth, but in the end, he couldn’t say the name.

Not far away, Holly Crowe saw it clearly.

He was afraid, afraid that if he said her name, he would become a target of ridicule alongside her.

The air seemed to solidify, a silent standoff began between the two.

Holly Crowe looked at his flickering gaze, watched him subconsciously avoid the press cameras, suddenly finding it amusing.

Finally, under her scornful watch, Zion Pence awkwardly averted his gaze.

The reporters still wanted to say something, but they heard a commotion at the entrance of the banquet hall.

Everyone turned back.

The door to the banquet hall swung open, a beam of light fell on the entrance.

Blake Sinclair stood in that beam of light.

He was wearing a dark, subtly patterned, British-style three-piece suit, his tie impeccably tied, standing tall and straight, exuding an air of casual nobility.

All the commotion stopped abruptly at that moment.

He merely needed to stand there, without words, and became the center of attention.

Those who had been whispering were stunned into silence by his presence.

"Blake Sinclair... he actually came?"

"Oh my God, he’s a hundred times better looking in person than in the financial magazines!"

"I’ve seen people wear suits, but never like a work of art...."

"The red beans grow in the southern country, Blake Sinclair is a male model!"

Exclamations were endless, the crowd once again erupted for him.

Just now, the reporters flocking around Zion Pence almost sprinted to the door, their recording pens and cameras raised thickly amidst them, yet no one dared to make a sound.

Blake Sinclair said nothing, not even glancing at the oncoming crowd.

His gaze passed through the layers of the crowd, landing directly on Holly Crowe.

In the instant their eyes met, it was as if the world paused.

Everything around them seemed to blur into the background.

Holly Crowe fell into his eyes, bottomless, yet with a power that seemed to reach straight into her heart, like an invisible net isolating everything.

The commotion, the lights, the jostling, ceased to exist.

The grievances she had suppressed earlier, because of this look, suddenly burst the dam.

She suddenly felt a pang in her nose.

But she didn’t cry, just with slightly red-rimmed eyes, like a stubborn little beast, she held her head high.

Seeing the redness at the corner of Holly Crowe’s eye, Blake Sinclair’s gaze darkened.

Step by step, he walked through the crowd toward her.

As he passed, the crowd instinctively parted for him.

Everyone’s eyes followed him as he moved.

Just then, someone shouted, "Look at the screen!"

The large screen in the banquet hall changed scenes, replacing the original congratulatory message with a video.

In the video, Zion Pence and Mia Chapelle were entangled in the back seat of a car, their bodies entwined in a passionate kiss, explicit enough to make one blush.

"This, this... oh my god, I can’t watch."

"Is Zion Pence playing both sides? Didn’t he just say he was getting married?"

The whole place instantly erupted.

Reporters, like maniacs, once again rushed back toward Zion Pence.

The glaring flashlights, sharp questions, one after another.

Even Mia Chapelle, who had been hiding in a corner, was somehow pulled out.

Surrounded by reporters, face pale, she was nothing like the pretentious pitiful appearance from earlier.

Holly Crowe stood on the outermost edge, silently observing everything unfolding.

The USB drive in her hand hurt from her grip.

The dirt thrown at her had to be returned tenfold.

She exhaled, just about to turn and leave, when she found herself falling into Blake Sinclair’s gaze.

He had somehow already shaken off the crowd, standing just a few steps behind her.

Blake Sinclair’s gaze shifted from her reddened eyes to her tightly pursed lips, finally fixing on the hand clutching the USB drive.

Instinctively, Holly Crowe’s hand shifted to hide it.

But he didn’t ask anything, just took a step closer, closing the distance between them.

"Are you okay?" His voice was slightly hoarse, very soft, but she heard it.

Holly Crowe straightened her back, almost blurting out ’I’m fine’, but looked into Blake Sinclair’s eyes, remembering the promise they had made.

The words changed to, "..not okay."

She spoke, sniffing.

Blake Sinclair’s heart was hit by something, turning to complete mush.

"Alright." He reached out, gently holding her wrist, naturally taking the USB drive from her hand.

His warm palm covered hers, and the touch of their skin felt like an electric current passing through.

All of Holly Crowe’s facades of strength crumbled at that moment.

"Blake Sinclair, are you now willing to leave with me?"

Her voice was soft, even slightly petulant, with a hint of probing, yet she still stubbornly held her head high.

Blake Sinclair’s eyes swirled with emotions she couldn’t comprehend.

"I’m with you."

He said, his voice deep.

The simple two words made Holly Crowe’s heart skip a beat.

She took a deep breath, actively holding his hand, "Then let’s go."

Blake Sinclair looked down at their clasped hands, a slight curve on his lips.

He tightened his grip, fully enveloping her cold hand.

The warmth from his palm transmitted over, carrying an inexplicable sense of reassurance.

Behind them, Zion Pence’s roars and Mia Chapelle’s screams mixed into chaos.

But it no longer mattered.

The world was collapsing, but what did it have to do with her.

The door swung open, light spilling in, elongating their shadows until they merged into one.