Chapter 540
The Billionaire’s Maid Bride
âThe woman in the photo could indeed be Allison, but it could also be someone who bears a striking resemblance to her. Look at the angles-none of these shots show her face head-on. It could be a team intentionally framing Allison.â
âWhoâs Allison? Sheâs been blowing up recently, trending on several platforms. Iâve never seen a star rise to fame without a single movie to her name.â
Allison, at home, scrolled through the comments under the trending topics. Her fingers clenched into a fist, and her knuckles turned white, before gradually relaxing. With a deep sigh, she placed her phone to the side.
Patty had called her earlier, telling her to take a rest and to temporarily halt her ongoing work. The filming of her movie in three days wouldnât be affected. Patty would handle the rest.
She reminded Allison not to impulsively jump onto Twitter and make a scene.
Allison understood. She got up and walked over to the French windows.
A soft breeze blew in. Allison tightly gripped the railing. She hadnât expected Penelope to pin her own transgressions onto her. The woman in the photos was Penelope, but because of the uncanny resemblance between her and Penelope, words alone wouldnât be enough to prove that the woman in the photos wasnât her.
In the past, Penelope had framed her several times, using Grace as a threat to force her to confess.
Now, Penelope was trying the same trick. A wry smile crossed Allisonâs face. This time, there was no one to threaten her with.
Four oâclock in the afternoon.
Sixth Avenue.
Further in, there was a bar named Azure. The sign was a little worn. Without the lights on in the daytime, it looked somewhat old and decrepit. Emma walked in while the staff were cleaning. There was a sign outside stating that the bar opened at 7 pm. âSorry, miss, you might want to come back at 7 pm when we open.â A bar worker with blonde hair and a tattoo on his bare shoulder looked rather shifty, but spoke politely.
Emma opened her bag, and took out her wallet. Without a glance, she pulled out several bills-five or six at least-and handed them over. âIâm looking for someone.â
The blonde guy was the owner and bartender, Hughes. He didnât immediately take the money but rather sized up the woman in front of him. âMaâam, we donât open until 7 pm, so not everyoneâs here yet. You might not find who youâre looking for.â
âHow do you know I wonât find them?â Emma countered. âYou didnât even ask who Iâm looking for.â
Hughes responded, âYouâre looking for Robbie, arenât you?â
Emma was taken aback as Hughes continued, âSomeone came looking for him two hours ago. But Robbie hasnât been here today. Heâs been hiding out because he owes money. I donât know where heâs gone.â
Emma gripped the money in her hand tighter. There was a sense of unease creeping into her heart.
Had Penelopeâs people come earlier?
âWho came looking for him at noon?â
âBlackwellâs secretary. That jerk Robbie owes boss Blackwell 80 grand and is now hiding in some place.â
Seeing the look on Emmaâs face, Hughes hesitantly asked, âDid Robbie owe you money?â
Robbie had a gambling problem and was deeply in debt, hiding everywhere to avoid paying his debts.
Many had come to the bar recently to collect the money he owed them.