Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 289

Chapter 289: Falling Into the Trap

Lillian’s heart burned with a fierce anger as she took in Ryan’s disheveled and confused state. “Ryan, come back to yourself! It’s me—Lillian,” she called out sharply, her voice cutting through the tension like a whip.

It was painfully clear that this was no accident; someone had meticulously planned this setup to draw her in. But the fact that they had the audacity to use Ryan as bait ignited a fury deep within her.

—

Her stern words barely made a dent. Ryan’s mind was clouded, his grip on her arm stubborn and unyielding. The haze in his eyes told her he was far beyond reason.

Just as Lillian reached for the silver needle she kept hidden for emergencies, intending to calm him down, a sharp voice sliced through the air. “Lillian, what on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Hans appeared nearby, Lyla at her side, a small crowd trailing behind them, their curious eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.

Taking in the situation, Lillian let out a low, bitter laugh, her voice dripping with sarcasm. So, this is how they’ve played their hand—cornered and exposed. Clearly, these people had gone to great lengths to stage this little drama. Well, she realized, she no longer had the option to stay behind the scenes tonight.

“Ms. Hans,” she said with a sly smirk, “what a coincidence. Almost feels like fate has decided to tie our paths together.”

Without sparing Hans another glance, Lillian swiftly pulled out her needle and pressed it against an acupoint on Ryan’s body. Instantly, he crumpled, unconscious.

Lyla’s expression hardened, her voice sharp and accusing. “Ms. Harrington, don’t you think you owe us an explanation? Mr. Ryan is a distinguished guest, and now look at him—completely out of it. Even as Mr. Whitmore’s fiancée, you owe everyone the truth about what’s happening here.”

“Exactly,” another voice piped up from the crowd. “It’s pitch black out here—what were the two of you doing alone together at this hour?”

—

“I heard she’s very close with Mr. Ryan from Jiutian,” a whispered accusation floated through the crowd, thick with suspicion. “Seeing this tonight only confirms it.”

“Poor Mr. Whitmore,” someone else muttered bitterly. “Such a good man, and his fiancée can’t even keep herself under control.”

The murmurs swelled, one voice after another, twisting the story into something darker, more scandalous.

Hans stood quietly, a smug smile playing on her lips, clearly pleased with the unfolding spectacle.

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