Jenna Roland shook her head. "No."

"Under these circumstances, legal action would be difficult," Hugo Valence's steady voice came through the phone. "Your uncle and his son are suspected of human trafficking, but we need concrete proof. Eyewitnesses or physical evidence would be ideal."

"Eyewitnesses? Evidence?" Jenna let out a bitter laugh. "Where am I supposed to find that?"

"Eyewitnesses mean people who saw it happen. Physical evidence includes bank transfer records, chat screenshots, anything like that. If it was a cash transaction, it'll be even harder to prove."

Jenna tightened her grip on the phone. If only she'd recorded them.

"So there's nothing I can do?"

"Without evidence, the police won't open a case. And they might even accuse you of false charges."

Jenna understood the risks. False accusations, defamation—she knew these tactics all too well.

"I see. Thank you, Mr. Valence."

She hung up and collapsed onto her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

This was clearly a carefully planned scheme. Drugging her, arranging the deal—every step had been calculated. Fiona and Jason Roland had done this before. They'd be extra careful now.

Without proof, she was powerless.

But at least she could stay away from them.

Jenna sighed heavily. She'd planned to settle down once she got the orchard back. Now it seemed she'd have to keep running her street stall.

Three days later, at dawn, Jenna was stopped by two burly men in black as she rode her e-bike out of Beverly Hills.

She frowned and tried to go around them, but they blocked her path again.

"What do you want?" Jenna gripped the handlebars warily.

A black sedan pulled up slowly. The door opened, revealing a figure she despised—Byron Valdemar.

"Get lost!" Jenna snapped.

To her surprise, Byron dropped his usual arrogance. "Miss Roland, I didn't know about your connection to Mr. Roscente. What happened at the hotel was my fault. I apologize!"

"Apologize?" Jenna scoffed. "You think an apology can undo what you did?"

Suddenly, Byron dropped to his knees. "Please, I was wrong! Forgive me!"

The unexpected gesture stunned her.

Passersby turned to stare, whispering among themselves.

Jenna snapped out of it. "Get out of here. Don't let me see you again!"

"Yes, yes!" Byron scrambled up like he'd been granted mercy and hurried away with his bodyguards.

The moment he got into the car, his phone rang. After listening, his face paled. "Port Hudson! Now!" he barked at the driver.