Kinsey accepted the glass and took a small sip. As Sanford’s words sank in, fragments of memory surfaced. He vaguely recalled hearing Sanford mention that everything had been completed just before he lost consciousness.
Perhaps the strain of hypnotizing two people simultaneously had indeed been too much for him.
Trusting Sanford’s explanation, Kinsey asked, “Did we get any information?”
Sanford shook his head slightly. “I’ll report the specifics directly to Declan. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with it.”
Kinsey didn’t press further, though a faint dizziness lingered in his head.
It felt as if something significant had slipped through the cracks of his memory, something he couldn’t quite grasp.
Sanford checked his watch and broke the silence. “The fashion show is about to begin, and I’ve been away for too long. If I don’t return soon, people will start asking questions.”
With that, he turned and exited the room.
As Sanford walked down the corridor toward the exhibition hall, his footsteps echoed in the quiet space. He hadn’t gone far when a voice called out from behind, sharp and unwavering. “So it’s you who’s been secretly helping Stella!”
Sanford’s heart skipped a beat. He spun around to see Lindsay standing there, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Lindsay believed she had uncovered Sanford’s secret, a smug sense of satisfaction lighting her expression.
With a touch of sarcasm, she said, “If Stella found out you orchestrated the shooting incident just to win her over—costing Matthew his memory in the process—do you think she’d be touched or furious?”
Sanford remained silent, his calm gaze fixed on Lindsay. His lack of response only fueled her arrogance.
She leaned in, her voice steady. “I could tell Stella. A man as devoted as you is hard to find, after all. Or perhaps she’d like to know it was because of your little behind-the-scenes manipulations that she was cleared in Robin’s death so quickly. I just can’t figure out why you had Stella and Bella taken away earlier…”
Before she could finish, Sanford stepped forward abruptly. His hand shot out, seizing her throat, and with shocking strength, he lifted her off the ground and slammed her against the wall.
Even as her airways tightened, Lindsay fought to maintain her composure. Her gasps came out fragmented but defiant. “You… might as well kill me. Only the dead keep secrets forever. But hear me out, I came here with Matthew. If I die, he’ll trace it back to you. I’m a nobody, but dragging you down with me? Now that’s a Legacy worth leaving.”
Despite the fight for air, her words carried relentless determination.
Sanford’s glare darkened as he took in her defiant expression. Though rage burned through him, her point wasn’t lost on him. Slowly, he loosened his grip, releasing her. His voice was chilling as he issued a warning. “Speak any of this nonsense to Stella, and I’ll make sure your end is far worse than you can imagine.”
Lindsay coughed, massaging her bruised neck as she inhaled deeply. “Relax,” she rasped. “We’ve worked well together before. There’s no need to tear each other sapart now.”
Sanford sneered, his tone icy. “The only value you hold now is your silence.”
But Lindsay wasn’t ready to back down. “You want Stella. I want Matthew. Our goals align. We don’t need to be enemies, Sanford.”
Sanford remained unmoved, his gaze locked on Lindsay with an air of quiet disdain, as though her words were nothing more than the musings of a naive dreamer.
Undeterred by his dismissiveness, Lindsay’s lips curved into a confident smile. “Ever wonder how I figured you out?”
She tapped the side of her nose and continued boastfully, “Last time, in the dark room, your cologne gave you away. And today, I happened to catch you orchestrating Stella’s little disappearance. With my help, you could have Stella in your grasp even faster. So, how about it? A partnership?”