Chapter 163
Yeah, with Hogan’s ice–cold vibe, no one in their right mind would dare to butt heads
with him.
But would he really kiss Cecilia in front of everyone?
Doubts began to creep up from the bottom of my heart. I lifted my eyelids slightly, and my gaze involuntarily landed on a spot diagonally opposite.
And, as luck would have it, I locked eyes with him again.
Our eyes met, and I felt a tiny quiver in my heart, smoothly averting my gaze without batting an eyelid.
When I looked up again, Hogan was gazing tenderly at Cecilia sitting beside him.
His eyes were soft as water.
Cecilia, with a bashful smile, glanced at Hogan and then quickly looked down.
She was the picture of a shy young girl.
“Kiss her!” someone egged them on, “Timer’s set for three minutes, start the clock!”
The atmosphere got rowdier, but amidst the noisy crowd, I felt an inexplicable heaviness in my chest.
Must be the booze talking.
When Cecilia boldly hopped onto Hogan’s lap, I quietly stood up and slipped away from the crowd.
It wasn’t until a gust of cold air hit me in the neck that I snapped back to my senses.
I’d seen enough of the show; it was time to get down to business.
I pulled out my phone and, sure enough, there was a missed call from Wallis.
Figuring there was a new lead on the FreeMan case, I called back immediately.
“About time you picked up, my god,” Wallis‘ voice was loud and excited, “An hour ago, FreeMan posted two pics in the group. I’ve sent them to your phone. Check out the second one, there’s a cufflink in the shot, super unique, rare find. Compare them one by one.”
After hanging up, I opened my phone and saw the photo with the distinctive mechanical cufflinks.
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Chapter 163
They looked eerily familiar.
I rubbed my temples, now a bit fuzzy, trying hard to recall everyone I saw at the party tonight. Lost in thought, I overheard a couple of guys arguing.
“Dude, I already promised the gal two FreeMan autographs, come on, help a brother out.”
FreeMan?
My heart skipped a beat. I followed the sound.
“Look at you, acting like you haven’t seen a woman in ages,” a crisp voice tinged with annoyance, “I’m warning you, three strikes and you’re out, or you’ll have no face left to save.”
This voice was familiar.
It was Timothy’s voice.
But what’s his deal with FreeMan?
Was I just tipsy and seeing things?
“Xaviera, what are you doing here?”
A voice of concern reached my ears, and I looked up, finding Timothy and Sean with surprised looks on their faces.
I was about to explain when I spotted that distinct mechanical cufflink on Sean’s suit jacket.
The exact match of the one Wallis had sent.
I marched over, grabbed the cufflink, and after scrutinizing it for a few seconds, I blurted out in disbelief, “Sean, you’re FreeMan?”
“What?” Sean looked at me, dumbstruck, “Xaviera, you must be drunk, how could I be FreeMan?”
I flashed the photo FreeMan shared in the fan group, “How do you explain this?”
Sean glanced at me, then at Timothy, and frowned in frustration.
He looked like he was in a tough spot and had a hard time explaining.
Just as I was about to grill him for answers, someone burst out from the front hall, running and shouting, “Mr. Abbott, come quick, your blind date brought a posse and she’s slapping your plus–one!”
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