Chapter101
“No.”
“Leave, Aubrey. I don’t need your pity.”
Aubrey didn’t reply, just turned and walked away, her steps heavy with sadness.
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The instant the door clicked shut, Damon covered his face with his hands, taking deep, shuddering breaths. He wheeled himself back to the computer, frantically pulling up the house’s security system, scanning the grid of tiny screens for any sign of Aubrey.
On one of the monitors, he spotted her at the end of the hallway, a slender figure huddled in the corner. Aubrey was curled up, knees drawn to her chest, her face buried in her arms, pressed against the wall.
He zoomed in on the image, magnifying it several times, and saw her slight frame trembling.
In that moment, she looked like a stray kitten, abandoned in a corner, as if she was hurt and nursing her wounds in solitude.
He pulled his hands from the desk, leaned back, and stared at the woman in the security footage, his own eyes welling up.
The night was still and quiet.
Aubrey finished her porridge, cleaned up the kitchen, and returned to her room.
The layout of this room was a bit smaller than Damon’s, but it was still cozy and unique, with all the necessities, and even sanitary pads thoughtfully provided in the closet.
The room had everything, except for medicine.
She had insomnia and didn’t sleep well that night, unable to get up the next morning.
Until her phone buzzed.
She jolted awake, rubbed her heavy forehead, still groggy, and grabbed her phone to check the time.
It was almost ten o’clock.
“Damn it,” she thought. She was here to take care of Damon, and she had slept in until ten? Who would prepare Damon’s breakfast?
She scrambled out of bed and glanced at the notification that had popped up.
A bank deposit notification made her panic.
Vance Corp had deposited $20,000 into her account, with the memo:“Thank you.”
It was a bolt from the blue.
She was the villagers‘ representative lawyer; the other party sending her money with a thank–you note was definitely a conspiracy.
Evidence stolen, and now this stunt–it was a blatant attempt to frame her for bribery and accuse her of betraying her clients.
If the dozens of villagers found out about this, she would be left without a defense. If the public got agitated and believed this conspiracy, and then were incited further, she would be universally condemned.
She immediately got up and called Vincent Hall to report the matter.
Vincent said with concern, “It’s too late. Dozens of villagers, I don’t know where they heard the rumors, were encouraged to run to the firm early this morning, cursing you for accepting bribes, pretending to litigate for them, scolding you for deliberately delaying, and colluding with the Vance Corp to make them lose the case.”
“I’ll go over now and explain it to them.”
“Don’t come over for the time being. Let them calm down first. This needs to be considered carefully. You go to the bank immediately to report it and return the money through the original route.”
“Okay.”
Aubrey hung up the phone, quickly washed up, grabbed her bag, and ran out.
As she walked out of the room and passed through the hallway, she suddenly stopped. Outside in the garden, Damon was sitting in a wheelchair, watering the plants with a water gun.
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The warm sunlight bathed him, making him look handsome, vibrant, and full of life, not at all like the broken man Tracy described.
Damon caught sight of her in his peripheral vision. He turned off the water gun and looked up.
Their eyes met.
Aubrey blinked, snapping out of her daze, and quickly asked, “Have you had breakfast yet?”
Damon nodded.
“You made breakfast yourself?” Aubrey asked, surprised.
“The housekeeper did.”
Aubrey looked blank again. Tracy had said Damon was all alone here.
And she hadn’t seen any staff last night.
“What housekeeper?”
“A part–time housekeeper who comes to cook.”
“Oh.” Part–time, that explained why she hadn’t seen anyone.
Damon set down the water gun and steered his wheelchair toward her, stopping in front of her.“Going to work?”
Just overnight, and Damon’s attitude toward her was noticeably warmer. Aubrey wasn’t surprised; Damon seemed like a genuinely good guy.
“No, going to the bank. Got some urgent business to take care of.”
“When you get back, buy me an electric razor.”
Aubrey stared, dumbfounded, before she finally processed his words.
Was Damon saying he was okay with her staying?
Aubrey nodded eagerly.“Okay, what brand? What model?”
“Anything is fine.”
“I might not be back anytime soon.
“Okay.” Damon replied, turning his automated wheelchair around and leaving.
Aubrey also rushed out, dealing with an urgent matter.
She got to the bank and cleared the remittance.
Vincent was worried that the villagers would hurt her, and told her to stay home for a couple of days until everyone calmed down before going back to work.
But she rushed back to the firm anyway.
As she stepped into the lobby of the firm, she found it packed with villagers. The moment they spotted her, they surged forward, surrounding her and spewing insults in her face.
Their words were vicious and cutting, each one a poisoned dart.
Some of the men looked ready to explode. If she hadn’t been a woman, they might have turned violent.
“You were supposed to be our lawyer, but you sold us out! You’re a disgrace to the profession!”
“A shyster like you can’t be trusted! We’re reporting you to the bar association. We’ll make sure you never practice law again!”
“That chemical plant is dumping waste every single day, poisoning our kids! You’re helping them do it, and you’ll get what’s coming to you!” “That chemical plant is hurting us in broad daylight, and you’re stabbing us in the back. You’re even more evil than they are.”
Aubrey didn’t say a word, quietly waiting for them to vent their anger.
Her colleagues emerged from their offices, forming a circle to watch the spectacle. Some wore expressions of anxiety, while others seemed smug. Garrett Miller stood to the side, a sardonic smile playing on his lips as he muttered, “Hills Law really dropped the ball on this one. How could they make someone like her a partner, someone with absolutely no professional ethics? They said she was capable, but look at her now.”
Another colleague chimed in,“I don’t think it’s that simple.”
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Garrett scoffed, “It is that simple. She’s just too young and couldn’t resist the lure of money. She sold out the moment they waved a check in her face.”
Meanwhile, the villagers, having vented their initial rage, gradually quieted down. One of them finally asked, “Why haven’t you said anything
Aubrey, remarkably composed, responded calmly, “I was waiting for you all to finish shouting.”
The crowd fell silent, seemingly wanting an explanation.
A hush fell over the lobby.
Aubrey then raised her voice, each word clear and resonant, “I completely understand your anger. But I ask you to consider this: if I had truly been bought off, why would I risk my life investigating this case, instead of just going through the motions and advising you to settle?”
Aubrey paused for a few beats, and seeing that the crowd seemed to be calming down, she continued, “This only proves that I’ve hit a nerve. They’re afraid I’ll get my hands on the evidence, so they’re resorting to these underhanded rumors to drive a wedge between us. I assure you, all the key evidence has been backed up, safe and sound.”
“My position has never wavered. I will get you justice. Now, are you going to choose to believe the enemy’s lies? Or are you going to choose to believe in me, and work with me to take down the chemical plant that’s polluting your village?”
The villagers exchanged hesitant glances, as if they were starting to be swayed.
Just then, a troublemaker in the crowd piped up,“Don’t listen to her sweet talk, everyone! She’s already taken a bribe from Vance Corp.”
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Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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