Crises in Love (Zora and Jaylan) novel Chapter 296

As soon as Jaylan found a topic that piqued my interest, he immediately became animated. "It's officially confirmed," he said enthusiastically, "that the property manager was bribed. He let Marissa and those reporters into the community to stir things up. He admitted it himself."

"I knew it," I scoffed, "He's a rotten apple. Those people found our house so accurately. It had to have been an inside job. How else could so many strangers have gotten in?"

"You've got such a sharp mind, honey!" Jaylan said, grinning and tightening his arm around me.

I struggled a bit, "Watch it, this is a hospital, not our living room!"

Laughing mischievously, he said, "Well, let’s save the cuddling for when we're back home!"

I almost gagged. Did he really think he was off the hook? I rolled my eyes, wishing I could spit at him.

Seeing my cold expression, he quickly changed the subject. "Marissa was just playing the victim, manipulating public opinion. She wanted people to think that you were the villain who took her child away. Oh... and the person who smashed our window? That was also related to the property manager. The authorities have released a statement saying the case is under investigation."

"No wonder," I muttered in agreement, feeling a surge of satisfaction. I had known all along that the manager couldn't be innocent. His arrest signaled that things were turning around.

"And now the internet trolls have flipped again, starting to blame Marissa!"

"Do you feel bad for her?" I shot back.

"Heavens no, she got what she deserved! She was nothing but trouble!" Jaylan spat out bitterly.

Internally, I scoffed at him. Men's hearts, as fickle as the changing winds.

"Don't you dare mention her in front of me again!" I declared, ice in my voice.

"Alright! Won't happen again!" Jaylan responded quickly.

Back in the hospital room, I took a shower. Once I had a moment of quiet, shadows began to creep into my mind, casting an uncomfortable pallor over my entire being. I could not seem to shake the memory of that dirty sewer where I was held captive and the feeling of filth crawling over my skin.