The man squatted excitedly on the ground, peering into the hole.
In the faint light, he caught sight of a woman huddled inside, looking just as pitiful as a dead dog.
At the sa ti, an ungodly stench filled his nostrils.
The man’s pupils contracted sharply as he shakily took out a cara and hastily snapped a few photos of the inside of the hole.
Then he stood up, as though in a dream, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Could the person inside... really be the once high-and-mighty, pure and innocent Evelyn Curtis?
The sight before him was hard to reconcile with his previous impression of the glamorous Evelyn Curtis and he felt an unexpected wave of sympathy for her.
The once lofty lady was now trampled in the mud?
What a tragic thought.
Leaned against a wall and suppressing his revulsion mixed with disbelief, the man sneaked his way out while the prison guard wasn’t looking.
He covertly retreated into the bushes, struggling to process the shock.
He took out his phone and started typing, his fingers trembling as they hit the screen.
In no ti at all, a new post stirred a storm on social dia.
This ti, a sowhat blurry picture accompanied the post, elevating its popularity significantly above its previous one.
In the photo, a woman was sprawled almost naked on the ground. The skin that was exposed had turned a muddy brown, virtually blending in with the dirt.
Her hair was filthy beyond recognition. From the angle of the shot, you could barely make out her face. But if you looked hard enough, her features were clearly reminiscent of those of Evelyn Curtis.
The netizens were almost dropping their jaws in shock, their outbursts echoing the surprise.
The previous lengthy post on social dia also caught fire, topping the trending list of celebrity scandals, becoming the number one hot topic.
The traffic was so high that the server of the social dia platform was on the verge of crashing. Likes and shares skyrocketed, drawing comnts from all corners, including those who were otherwise oblivious to such events.
"This is too much information to process. I can’t believe my eyes. Looking at the picture, what on earth happened to Evelyn Curtis?"
"Honestly, I’m still trying to grasp this, even if Evelyn Curtis really did sothing wrong... but the extent of her suffering is just too great. Who could have been so ruthless to her?"
"Who did our Dream Watson offend to have been treated so cruelly!"
"Hey guys, isn’t the truth right before our eyes? The previous post ntioned it, didn’t it? Evelyn is in this state all thanks to Charlotte Thompson. Now let’s dare to guess, what is Charlotte’s background? To achieve this, she must not be ordinary."
"Charlotte Thompson is really not simple. Since she appeared in our view, Evelyn Curtis has been hit hard. There must be a conspiracy."
The public opinion quickly turned on Charlotte.
Everyone unanimously believed that there must be an enormous power behind Charlotte, so even floating wild speculations.
Even conspiracy theories were hatched.
At the sa ti, at Riley Group.
In the president’s office.
Michael Richard rushed in without knocking and imdiately spotted Justin Battleson, calm as ever, sitting in his office chair.
Justin’s brow furrowed slightly as he held a cup of coffee in his hand, taking a casual sip, the distinct bitterness of the coffee perating his mouth.
Michael stood in front of him and soberly announced: "Mr. Battleson, the entrance of the group is now blocked with people, mostly young n and won. They are holding banners with Evelyn Curtis’s pictures and chanting slogans...."
Upon hearing this, Justin was not surprised. He idly lifted his head to glance at Michael, asking softly, "What are they shouting?"
With a touch of headache, Michael replied in a low voice, "They are demanding you to use Battleson Group’s financial and political power to get Evelyn Curtis out."
As Michael finished speaking, Justin glanced at his computer screen, which displayed the comnts section of the social dia post.
He already had a good grasp of the situation.
He’d anticipated sothing like this from Evelyn’s fans.
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