Chapter 52

A wave of shock rippled through the room as the guards stormed in. Confusion reigned for several moments.

"Officer, what is the matter?" Florence asked, bracing herself. She'd never witnessed such a scene as a civilian, and despite her innocence, a sense of guilt washed over her.

"I'm asking, who is Dahlia Nicholson?" the officer demanded, his tone somber, his eyes hostile.

Dahlia slowly stood, forcing a brave face. "I am… What can I do for you, Officer?"

"Our investigations indicate you're collaborating with the enemy. You're accused of being a Western spy. Come with us immediately to assist in the investigation!" the officer declared.

"Collaborating with the enemy? A traitor?" Gasps of disbelief filled the room. Dahlia, born and raised in Swinton, had no such connections; her ancestors were ordinary farmers. How could this be?

"Officer, is there a mistake? My daughter is a model citizen. She pays her taxes and donates to charity. How could she be a traitor?" Florence exclaimed, shocked.

"That's right! My sister is innocent! You're talking nonsense!" James slammed the table, rising angrily.

"We'll determine if this is a mistake during the investigation," the guard replied coldly.

"There's no need! We can testify!"

"Yes! Dahlia is definitely not a traitor!" The room erupted in support; Dahlia's character was beyond reproach. Market manipulation might be plausible, but treason was unthinkable.

"I'm following orders. Anyone who interferes will be considered an accomplice!" The officer's impatience flared.

"You wouldn't dare!" James glared. "Do you know who we are? You wouldn't live to see daylight if you touched a hair on my sister!"

"There's solid evidence of Dahlia Nicholson's collusion with the enemy. Anyone obstructing the arrest is an accomplice. Take them all! Anyone resisting will be shot!"

The soldiers raised their weapons, the cold barrels menacingly aimed at the assembled group. Silence fell.

"You—you…" James began, but Dahlia quickly stopped him. "Everyone, remain calm. There must be a misunderstanding. I'm sure they'll release me after the investigation."

The officer scoffed. They would decide if it was a misunderstanding. "Take them away!"

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped at the gates of Spanner Villa.

"Officer, this doesn't look like an investigation site," Florence said uncertainly.

"Nonsense! Get out!" The officer shoved them inside.

The courtyard revealed the truth. Two white flags hung by the door; inside, a coffin lay in the living room, Trevor's portrait above it.

"Sir Spanner?" Confusion etched itself on every face. Dahlia felt a chill; she'd walked into a trap.

Just then, a burly Travis Spanner entered. His sharp eyes and imposing presence were overwhelming.

"Sir, everyone involved is here," the officer reported.

"Good," Travis nodded, his gaze sweeping the room. "My name is Travis Spanner. I'm a general from the Western war zone. Some of you may have heard of me."

A collective gasp filled the room. Chris paled; he knew the Western warzone's brutality. Only a battle-hardened, powerful commander could hold that rank—even the Mighty Three respected him. Power, not money or status, reigned supreme. This man possessed both. His power stemmed from the military; he could convict anyone with a word—treason, for instance.

"I'll ask one question. Answer honestly, and you live. Otherwise, you'll be convicted of treason," Travis threatened directly.

"General, we'll cooperate fully!" Florence said, trembling. She had no choice; his demeanor was too intimidating.

"Did my brother's death involve any of you?" Travis asked.

Fear rippled through the crowd.

"No! It has nothing to do with us!"

"We're innocent!"

"General, you must be mistaken!"

Denials flew, fueled by the fear of death.

Travis smirked coldly. "Edward, examine these people."

Edward limped in, his gaze settling on Dahlia. Lust warred with resentment—his crippling injury had extinguished his desires, replaced by a thirst for revenge. He'd lost Dahlia, so he would destroy her.

Edward's face twisted into a cruel grimace. "Uncle! It's her, Dahlia! My father's death is her fault! And him!" He pointed at Chris. "He has a grudge against me, too! He's suspicious!"