The computer hard drive was completely formatted, the USB drive and backup phone were all placed into a sealed bag, hidden in the wall cavity.
Then she opened the vent, clearing out any possible footprint and fibers.
She waited a while longer.
Tristan Lowell's footsteps were already at the door.
He stood in front of the door for about ten seconds.
Moments later, the footsteps suddenly changed direction, gradually fading away.
She squinted her eyes, walked to the door, and listened carefully for a while.
After confirming that the person had walked away, she took out a glass and gently placed it upside down on the doorknob.
After finishing this, she pulled the curtains shut and turned off the lights before going to bed.
The next day.
Knocking sounds at the door.
Rhythm consistent, three short, two long, it was the unique way the butler knocked.
Cora Lowell opened the door, looking at the butler coldly.
She had just washed her face, her hair still somewhat damp, wearing a loose bathrobe.
"Here is the dress you need to wear and the music sheet you need to perform."
The butler held the clothing and sheet music with both hands.
Cora Lowell picked at the clothing with her fingertips, a thin pink gauze.
"You call this thing a dress?"
"Yes."
She let go, stepped back.
"Tell him, if he doesn't mind losing face, I won't wear it."
The butler's face turned ugly, brows furrowed.
He dared not say another word, immediately took out his phone and dialed Tristan Lowell's number.
As soon as the call connected, he quickly reported the situation.
Three seconds later, he put on a standard smile.
"I'll have someone replace it right away."
In response to him, Cora Lowell slammed the door shut.
Panic.
She stood behind the door, her back against the cold wooden board, breathing slightly accelerated.
Her mind raced, thinking through every next step.
If that man doesn't come, she has to find another way to escape.
...
Cora Lowell walked downstairs.
She wore a simple black long dress, her hair neatly pulled back.
At the corner of the stairs, she was blocked.
Lana Lowell stood there, arms crossed over her chest.
She looked her up and down, jealousy flashing in her eyes.
She lifted her chin condescendingly: "You may look good, but what of it?"
"In the end, aren't you marrying a scumbag like Hayden Croft!"
Cora Lowell looked at her.
She didn't back away, nor did she avoid her gaze, she just stood there.
Lana Lowell thought she was scared, her boldness immediately increased.
She stepped closer, daringly provoking her.
"If you kneel, I could speak for you."
Cora Lowell smiled slightly, took a step forward, leaned close to her ear, and whispered.
"You are far from it."
Before she could speak, Cora Lowell's red lips moved.
"Say one more word, and I'll make sure you go down with me."
Lana Lowell trembled, her pupils shrank suddenly.
She instinctively backed away, unable to stop shrinking back, her heel hitting the stair railing.
Cora Lowell stepped back two steps, casually arranging her sleeves.
She looked at her opponent.
"What do you think, would a freak like Hayden Croft think three people are more fun?"
"You... you're just irrational!"
Her face turned blue, her voice trembling.
Cora Lowell sneered twice.
"Is this all it takes to make you crumble?"
She stood at the stair corner, her fingertips lightly brushing her skirt.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze for a moment.
She turned around, walked down the stairs step by step.
Lana Lowell was furious, dizzy, her chest heaving violently.
She stared at the slowly descending figure.
She wished she could rush up immediately and slap her hard!
The hall downstairs.
Hayden Croft was leisurely skimming foam off tea.
He sat in the main seat, expression calm.
"Your troubles are insignificant in our Croft Family's eyes. Want them solved? Simple."
As his words ended, he glanced at Tristan Lowell, half-smiling.
Tristan Lowell's eyes darkened, immediately interrupting.
"Today Mr. Croft is here to rest, let's put other matters aside for now."
He sat in the subordinate position, back straight.
He knew very well, some things couldn't be discussed.
The Croft Family's attitude was written all over their faces.
The so-called "help" was just conditional charity.
Hayden Croft smirked, didn't pursue further.
He picked up the teacup, sipping, and the warm tea slid down his throat.
At this moment, footsteps echoed upstairs, drawing near, rhythm distinct.
He instinctively looked up, pupils contracted, hand shook.
Tea spilled over his clothes.
The dark liquid quickly spread over his lapel, yet he couldn't bother wiping it.
Cora Lowell descended the stairs.
In a loosely fit black long dress, neckline slightly open, shoulders drooping.
Skirt hem swayed, highlighting the curve of her waist and hips.
Light shone on her, setting her skin in cold pale.
Hayden Croft immediately donned a gentle smile.
He hid that brief twist from his eyes.
Casually tossing the teacup onto the nearby tray.
Then reaching out to her, palm facing upwards, a gesture of ingratiation.
"Come, let me take a good look at you."
Tristan Lowell said nothing, only signaling her to go over with his eyes.
The room was eerily quiet.
Lana Lowell sat on the side, clutching a cloth.
"Sister, last night at the banquet you left in a fit, causing quite the stir..."
"Mr. Croft, considering our father, gave you a chance, yet you were late, didn't apologize, wore a cold face, are you looking down on us?"
Tristan Lowell glared at her instantly.
He stood in the hall, hands clasped behind.
Hayden Croft instead nudged his glasses.
His gaze landed on Cora Lowell, his eyes slightly exploring.
He didn't immediately respond to Tristan Lowell.
But slowly adjusted his sitting posture.
"If I've done anything wrong, Miss Lowell should feel free to let me know, I'll certainly amend."
Sean Shaw had checked on this man before.
This person maintained a facade of elegance, often attending charity banquets and art exhibitions.
But secretly controlled underground casinos and illegal clubs.
He never personally stained his hands with blood, yet enjoyed manipulating others' destinies.
Especially towards women, he had a fixed method.
First, lure with benefits, then gradually apply psychological pressure.
He liked seeing them struggle in despair.
Cora Lowell lowered her gaze to the ground.
A few seconds later, she spoke indifferently.
"If not for sister deliberately blocking me, I wouldn't be late?"
When her words fell, she slowly looked up.
Her sight rested on Hayden Croft's face for a moment.
She glanced at the clock on the wall, metal hands pointing to eleven-thirty.
Only less than an hour before noon.
That person wouldn't come.
Her originally indifferent expression slightly softened, corners of her lips slowly lifted.
"May I play a piece on the violin for Mr. Croft?"
As soon as the words landed, the butler immediately brought a violin.
It was a deep brown Stradivarius.
He respectfully handed over the violin, stepped back, stood with his hands at his sides.
Cora Lowell turned sideways, positioned herself, left hand carrying the violin, gently drew the strings.
She adjusted her stance, breathing slowing.
Melody flowed, cold and clear as a spring.
She played Bach's aria.
When the bow moved, a stray strand slipped from her forehead.
The hall remained silent, only the sound of the violin echoed.
At the end of the piece, the last note gently concluded.
She slightly tilted her head.
If it were on the bed, that neck...
Hayden Croft's eyes reddened, palms burnt.
His breathing grew slightly heavier.
He fixed his gaze on Cora Lowell's profile.