Chapter 366: Madness in the Parking Lot

The once elegant and grand charity banquet had descended into chaos. People whispered, their voices buzzing with speculation. Security guards moved quickly to maintain order, blocking reporters and clearing the crowd.

Summer saw that her goal for the night had been achieved. She was ready to head back with Yvette. The two of them walked to the parking lot, about to get into the car, when a figure came rushing toward them at full speed.

It was Emelia. Right now, she looked like a rabid animal. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she had completely lost the poised, dignified image she was known for.

“Summer! You can’t leave! This whole thing was a setup—you framed her! You’re coming with me to the police station to tell them it was all fake. Tell them to release Morgan!”

Yvette immediately stepped forward and blocked Emelia’s path. She sneered, “Your daughter did this herself. What’s there to explain? She killed your housekeeper, and Summer got trapped in the cold because of a trap Morgan set.”

“You’re lying! You’re all liars! This is all nonsense! You framed her!” Emelia refused to believe it. Her daughter, Morgan, might be a bit spoiled, but she was kindhearted. She’d never kill anyone! These bitches were just jealous of Morgan’s talent. That’s all this was—a calculated smear campaign to bring down the Harper family.

Emelia forced herself to her feet. Just the thought of Morgan being arrested for murder—a lifetime of hard work, gone in an instant. At this point, Emelia had lost all sense of reason. She shouted at the Harper family bodyguards standing nearby, “What are you waiting for? Grab her! I don’t care what it takes—drag that woman to the police station and get Morgan out!”

Yvette watched them step closer, clearly intent on grabbing them both. She was just one woman. Summer was pregnant. There was no way they could fight off a bunch of men. She shouted, “Get in the car, Summer! That woman’s lost her damn mind!”

But just then, a flash of movement lit up the parking lot like lightning. Fraser’s bodyguards, stationed in the shadows to protect Summer, suddenly appeared. Trained, quick, and disciplined, they moved as one, forming a solid wall between Summer, Yvette, and the advancing threat. The two groups of bodyguards stood face-to-face. But the difference was obvious—Summer’s side had nearly ten men, while Emelia had brought only four. They were completely outmatched.

Summer looked straight at Emelia. “If you keep pushing it, I won’t mind sending you to the police station to join your daughter.”

On the drive back, Yvette was at the wheel. She glanced over, curious. “When did you get bodyguards? And a whole damn football team, no less!”

Summer leaned against the window, her hand supporting her forehead, staring out at the glowing city lights. “After I was hospitalized last time. Fraser arranged it.” She had thought it would just be two or three guys. She hadn’t expected nearly ten of them, all hidden in the shadows. The scale of it made her feel like she had presidential-level security.

Yvette nodded. “Your man really goes all out.” She turned the steering wheel, then added, “Anyway, Morgan may be in police custody now, but a single recording isn’t much. With the Harper family’s resources, they could easily fake a mental illness diagnosis and bail her out.” Of course, the Harper family would do whatever they could to save face.

Seeing Summer deep in thought, Yvette suggested, “You should talk to your man. Have him put pressure on the police.”

When Summer got home, she saw that Fraser’s black Ferrari was already parked in the garage. She walked into the house and asked one of the maids, “Where’s Fraser?”

“Mr. Fraser is in the study,” the maid answered respectfully.

“Got it.” Summer headed into the kitchen, picked up a bowl of soup the maid had prepared, and walked toward the study. She stopped at the door and knocked twice.

“Come in.” The deep voice of a man came from inside.

Summer opened the door and saw Fraser standing by the window, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone to his ear. He had his back to her. Broad shoulders, long legs, dressed in a black suit and slacks—he didn’t need to say a word to exude power and authority. Summer quietly closed the door behind her.

Fraser turned around, glancing at her with dark, intense eyes. “Do it,” he said into the phone, then hung up. His eyes stayed fixed on her, unwavering and deep.

Summer started to feel uncomfortable under his gaze. “Is there something on my face?”

“Come here.”

She walked over, first setting the bowl of soup on his desk, then moving closer to him.