Chapter 1170: Chapter 1170

Chapter 1170:

But Allison stunned them all with her response.

“He’s right,” she admitted coolly. “My fingerprints are on it. There’s no need for further testing.”

The crowd fell into stunned silence.

Had she just confessed outright?

Hoyt’s face lit up with a twisted sense of triumph. “You all heard her, didn’t you? She admitted it! Fingerprints don’t lie!”

Melany immediately adopted a regretful, almost saintly expression, shaking her head as though in disbelief.

“How could this happen? Allison, I never thought you were capable of something so underhanded,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. But her words were sharp and calculated, like needles disguised as silk, meant to stoke the fire.

“Tonight is Mr. Morgan’s birthday. Couldn’t you have resolved your grievances privately? Allison, this behavior clearly shows a lack of respect for Mr. Morgan. You owe him an apology, here and now,” Melany added, her eyes gleaming with malice. “I’m sure Mr. Morgan would forgive you.”

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances, murmuring among themselves.

Allison’s admission had caught them completely off guard.

Hoyt, emboldened by the murmurs, scoffed.

To him, Allison’s confession was a desperate act, a last resort to save face when no other escape seemed possible. He was certain that she’d crumble further under the weight of her supposed guilt.

“Allison,” he began, his tone now laced with self-righteous indignation, “if you have a personal grudge against me, that’s one thing. But do you have no respect for Mr. Morgan or the guests at this banquet?” Reminded by Melany’s hint, Hoyt seized the moment to twist the knife further.

“You can hurl insults at me, but to insult Mr. Morgan’s hospitality? That’s disgraceful!” he exclaimed, his nausea rising as he spoke, his face pale but his words venomous.

gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.k𝗈𝗺 – 𝓐𝓬𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝒶𝓽 𝖠𝖳

His accusations grew more erratic and wild as he gave vent to his indignation, but Allison merely watched him with eyes as cold and sharp as shards of glass.

“Is that the extent of your theatrics?” she asked, her voice unflinching.

“Of course!” Hoyt spat, glaring at her. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re plotting some feeble defense. But the evidence is undeniable — no one will believe you!”

Allison let out a soft laugh, a sound that made the room shiver. Hoyt’s desperation was evident; his bag of tricks had been emptied, leaving him to claw futilely at her dignity.

“Are you accusing me of hiring that vagrant as well?” Allison asked, her voice edged with mockery.

“I saw it with my own eyes!” Hoyt barked, pointing to the vagrant, who had just begun to regain consciousness after being knocked out earlier. The man’s eyes darted nervously to Hoyt, who threw him a warning glance, a silent command to play along.

“He’s right,” the vagrant stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The vagrant jabbed his grimy finger in Allison’s direction, his voice rising above the murmurs of the crowd. “This woman — she’s the one who threw me into the lounge!” His words were the truth, though he conveniently skipped over the part where his presence at the banquet was arranged by Hoyt.

As the accusation left his lips, his gaze, unstable as a flickering candle, instinctively drifted toward someone in the crowd: Melany. “Please, let me go!” he pleaded, desperation lacing his tone. “I swear, I’m innocent!” All he desired now was the payment he’d been promised and a chance to vanish from this chaos for good.

.

.

.