The sharp crack of Alexander's assistant's hand striking Olivia's face cut through the air. "Silence!" he commanded, his voice cold and firm.

Alexander's instruction was immediate. "Gag her."

"Right away, Mr. Blackwood." The assistant moved without hesitation, producing a cloth and forcing it into Olivia's mouth. Her terrified screams were instantly muffled, reduced to desperate, choked sounds.

Evelyn released a tired breath.

It was clear now. Olivia had tried to use Theodore to elevate her status. When that plan failed spectacularly, she had directed all her venom and frustration toward Evelyn.

"Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, what are your orders regarding her?" the assistant inquired. Unsure, Evelyn glanced at Alexander, deferring to his judgment.

He squeezed her hand gently, a silent promise of support. After a moment of contemplation, he delivered his verdict. "We should leave this to Theodore's assistant."

The assistant seemed surprised. "Wouldn't it be better to take her directly to the authorities?"

Alexander's response was calculated and calm. "Involving the police ourselves, without Theodore's team, could be misconstrued. It might look like we are fabricating a story, using Olivia as a scapegoat to clear Evelyn's name."

He paused, letting the logic sink in. "Given Theodore's critical condition—drifting in and out of consciousness, completely incapacitated—his assistant is effectively in control. We will hand her over. He is far better equipped to conduct a rigorous interrogation. In fact, he has even greater motivation than we do to uncover the real mastermind behind this, considering the severity of Theodore's injuries."

Evelyn nodded in agreement. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. "You always think several steps ahead," she murmured softly. "Once Theodore's people establish her guilt, they will ensure she never sees the outside of a prison cell again."

A violent shiver wracked Olivia's body as Evelyn's calm, resolved gaze fell upon her.

Panic erupted. She began to thrash wildly against her restraints, her eyes wide with pure terror and stark regret.

No! A lifetime in prison was not part of her plan!

She was still young. The thought of rotting away behind bars forever was a fate worse than death.

Muffled, pathetic whimpers escaped around the gag. Her eyes pleaded for a mercy that would not come. Her cries went unheard.

Her dream of marrying into luxury, of becoming a wealthy socialite, was now ashes. Prison was an absolute impossibility.