Chapter 173

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse, casting golden streaks across the marble floors. She sipped her lavender-infused tea, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly—until a particular headline made her nearly choke on her drink.

"Nathan Blackwood Spotted Leaving Hotel with Mystery Woman at 3 AM!"

Evelyn's fingers froze. Her pulse spiked. The accompanying blurry photo showed Nathan—her Nathan—exiting a luxury hotel with a statuesque blonde wrapped around his arm. The timestamp? Last night.

Her mind whirled. He told me he was working late.

Before she could spiral further, her phone buzzed. A text from Lillian Graves, her ever-loyal assistant:

"You need to see this."

Attached was a screenshot of a private group chat—Victoria Hayes’s inner circle. The messages were brutal:

"Finally, he’s bored of her."

"That gold-digger didn’t last long, huh?"

"Bet she’s crying into her designer pillows."

Evelyn’s nails dug into her palm. Victoria, Nathan’s venomous secretary, had been waiting for this moment.

Then—another notification. Nathan’s name flashed on her screen.

Her thumb hovered. Should she answer? Confront him? Play dumb?

The phone rang again. This time, it was Preston Whitmore, her agent.

"Evelyn, turn on Celeb Today," he said urgently. "Now."

She grabbed the remote. The screen lit up with breaking news:

"Insiders claim Nathan Blackwood’s relationship with Evelyn Sinclair was a PR stunt orchestrated by his family to clean up his playboy image. Sources say the real woman in his life is..."

The screen cut to a paparazzi shot of Nathan leaning close to whisper in a woman’s ear—Seraphina Delacroix, the rising actress notorious for stealing leading men.

Evelyn’s tea cup shattered on the floor.

Evelyn's inner monologue left the Blackwood family speechless.

If it weren't for Sven's identity and actions, they would have thought they were hearing things.

Gabriel trafficking drugs? Here? Could it really be happening right under our noses?

The Blackwoods didn’t know whether to look at Evelyn or Gabriel.

Evelyn was just as shocked. She never imagined Gabriel would be reckless enough to get involved in something so dangerous. He was already failing spectacularly at fraud—now he was dabbling in drug trafficking? Unbelievable.

Unable to resist, she scrutinized him carefully.

He’s completely lost it. So terrified of facing his own failures that he agreed to the underground casino owner’s terms. He thought it would be simple—just move a package under police surveillance, hand it off, and his debts would vanish. The crowded venue, a public place, made it the perfect cover. So, he arranged to meet in the restroom after the show, when the audience would be flooding out. Gabriel was too scared to carry the package openly, so he resorted to the same old trick—hiding it, just like he did with the pearl necklace… Who would’ve thought… Hah. Sven’s still proving his worth, even in retirement. Gabriel, you’re digging your own grave. Before, there was barely any evidence against you—now? You’re handing it over on a silver platter.

Evelyn’s expression darkened. After everything that had just happened, seeing Gabriel dive headfirst into drug trafficking to cover his mistakes made her sick to her stomach.

Does he even realize how many lives have been lost keeping this poison out of our country?

The Blackwoods’ expressions shifted as they absorbed Evelyn’s thoughts.

Too furious to notice their reactions, Evelyn barely registered Nathan pulling out his phone to call Daniel.

"Sven alerted us. He bit Gabriel. Gabriel’s been acting off since he arrived—too conscious of the time."

Nathan fabricated the details, knowing Daniel’s instincts would lead him to suspect Gabriel was hiding drugs and preparing for a handoff.

Daniel had been watching the live broadcast, partly out of curiosity about Nathan and Evelyn’s current dynamic, but mostly because he had arranged for Sven’s temporary assignment. He needed to keep an eye on things.

When he saw Sven’s sudden aggression, alarm bells went off. He immediately began deploying officers to the studio.

At first, Daniel assumed the celebrity was just using drugs.

But as more information came in, his expression darkened. He contacted the narcotics unit without hesitation. "We missed a lead last time. This might be our chance."

The narcotics team was stunned. How did Daniel manage to crack a case while watching a variety show in the middle of his packed schedule?

It was like striking gold.

The nearest police station sprang into action, sealing off all exits from the studio building. No one would escape unnoticed.

Inside, chaos reigned.

Isabelle Laurent arrived with her team, her sharp gaze scanning the scene.

Claire Harrison, seeing her son Gabriel being mauled by the police dog, lunged forward—only to be yanked back by the trainer.

Something was wrong. The trainer immediately began evacuating the crowd.

"Stay back!" he barked. "Gabriel, stop resisting! If you keep struggling, I’ll have no choice but to let Sven restrain you!"

Claudia Bennett shoved the trainer aside. "What the hell are you saying? Who do you think you are? Call off your damn dog!"

The trainer, lacking official authority, could only repeat firmly, "If he stops resisting, Sven will release him!"

But Gabriel couldn’t stop. The guilt and terror twisting inside him were unbearable—like a condemned man fighting his execution.

Even as Sven’s teeth sank deeper, Gabriel thrashed, kicking wildly with his free leg.

Sven dodged effortlessly, loosened his grip—then clamped down again the second Gabriel tried to scramble away.

Claire had been ready to rush to her son’s side, but the trainer’s words froze her in place.

Her family had military ties. She knew police dogs didn’t act without reason.

And Sven wasn’t attacking—he was preventing an escape.

The realization hit her like a bullet.

Something’s very wrong with Gabriel.

When she remembered Sven’s training—drug detection—her face drained of color.

Her prestigious family name, tarnished by this? The disgrace was unthinkable.

She stood paralyzed, the world tilting around her.

Meanwhile, Preston Whitmore and Donovan Sharpe summoned security.

Evelyn Sinclair’s expression soured at their approach.

They were here to help—but Nathan Blackwood stepped forward first.

"Evacuate the crowd," he ordered.

Preston and Donovan hesitated, but Nathan added, "Police are on their way. Keep everyone calm."

The two men exchanged stunned glances.

The situation was spiraling out of control.

The studio was in chaos. What was supposed to be a smooth variety show filming had turned into a nightmare. Why were the police here?

Just when they thought the storm had passed, another wave crashed over them. They should’ve known better than to underestimate anyone from Team A-list.

"Don’t just stand there! Do something!" Claudia Bennett’s voice trembled with panic, her eyes brimming with tears.

Preston Whitmore and Donovan Sharpe exchanged frantic glances. The security guards remained frozen, waiting for instructions that never came.

Then, the police stormed in. Officers quickly identified Preston and Donovan, securing the scene before either could react.

Numb with shock, the director and producer complied mechanically, their minds racing. When the words "drug bust" were mentioned, their legs nearly gave out beneath them.

Gabriel Ramirez, sensing trouble, tried to bolt—only for Sven to tackle him again, as if mocking his futile attempt.

Within moments, Gabriel was isolated in custody.

Claudia, hysterical, actually demanded the officers arrest the dog instead.

The looks she received ranged from disbelief to outright pity.

When the police confirmed her connection to Gabriel, the cuffs snapped around her wrists.

Claudia’s face went blank with shock.

The entire studio was steeped in surreal disbelief.

This was supposed to be entertainment. How did we end up in handcuffs?

Yet, seeing the celebrities seated calmly, the audience didn’t panic. Instead, whispers erupted, phones lighting up as they scrolled through feeds.

The live stream had been cut—but not before the internet exploded.

Preston and Donovan had no choice. Letting the audience watch a dog maul a person was a PR disaster.

Even with the broadcast halted, social media was already ablaze.

Only then did the studio crew notice the flashing lights outside. They were surrounded.

The fallout was just beginning.