Chapter 438 - 441: The Game Begins

The Marshall Family’s men, Mr. Foster and Lawson, were staying at a business hotel chain in Aston’s commercial district.

It was a standard twin room, not facing the street, not near any surveillance blind spots, and on a middle floor.

They used a complete set of untraceable identities to check in, paying the deposit and room fees in cash.

For several days straight, Lawson noticed that the vehicles staking them out had all disappeared.

That night, he couldn’t hold back any longer and asked Mr. Foster.

"Master, it looks like they’ve all cleared out. Can we make a move and go find Ms. Marshall?"

Mr. Foster stood behind the curtains, observing the situation outside through a small gap.

"What’s the rush?"

"Adrian Lancaster is a meticulous man. You think he’d just withdraw completely like that? You underestimate him."

"Right now, he’s either trying to lure us out of hiding, deliberately setting bait for us to show ourselves, or it’s a feigned retreat, with eyes hidden in the shadows where we can’t see them."

Mr. Foster turned around, his eyes showing not a shred of wishful thinking, only a counter-surveillance instinct honed to a razor’s edge.

"In our line of work, the biggest taboo is acting rashly at the first sign of a lull. The moment they pull back, you charge forward—you won’t even know what hit you."

Lawson was rebuked into silence.

Over the next few days, Mr. Foster became even more vigilant. He immutably observed the hotel entrance, the parking lot, and the street intersections at four set times each day. He mentally cataloged every car that stopped for more than ten minutes, every unfamiliar face loitering nearby, and every seemingly normal shop employee.

After three consecutive days of cross-referencing, he confirmed there were no obvious stakeouts or disguised lookouts.

He even had Lawson pretend to go out to throw away trash or retrieve an item during the high-risk periods of late night and early morning, showing his face for a dozen seconds before quickly returning.

He repeatedly tested for any hidden surveillance, camera traps, or tails.

As it turned out, nothing unusual was detected over those three days.

"Master, it’s been three whole days. There’s really been no movement. It doesn’t seem like a trap."

A dim, yellow bedside lamp was lit in the hotel room, casting faint, blurry shadows on the floor.

Mr. Foster sat on the edge of the bed, his back ramrod straight.

He tapped his fingers lightly on his knee, his brow slightly furrowed, as he replayed every detail of the past three days in his mind.

"Master?"

Mr. Foster slowly raised his head, his dark, sharp gaze sweeping over his apprentice.

"This is precisely when we can’t let our guard down. A man like Adrian Lancaster never does things by halves. Why would he relax his surveillance on us for no reason?"

"Moving now would be too reckless."

"We wait. We wait until he’s completely convinced we’ve been scared out of our wits and won’t dare to make a move. We wait until this seemingly calm facade has worn itself into a true state of normalcy. Then, we act."

Lawson didn’t dare to defy his master. No matter how unwilling he felt, he wouldn’t risk making a rash move.

"Master, how much longer do we have to wait?"

Mr. Foster had no answer. He lit a cigarette, feeling a little agitated.

"I don’t know."

’Compared to our previous missions, this one isn’t particularly difficult.’

’But he hesitated to act, always feeling that the Lancaster family had laid a bigger trap and was just waiting for him to step into it.’

’If he fell into Adrian Lancaster’s hands, the consequences would be unimaginable.’

...

Night fell.

The top-floor banquet hall of the Lancaster International Hotel was brilliantly lit.

Light from the crystal chandeliers washed over the gilded walls.

Amidst a swirl of perfume and elegant figures, the light, melodic clinking of glasses chimed in a pleasing rhythm.

This annual business gala, hosted by The Rhodes Group, was high-end, luxurious, and incredibly prestigious.

It brought together business partners, directors from Aston’s various financial groups, industry elites, and authoritative financial media.

As the gala officially began, Adrian Lancaster and Wren Sutton entered the main hall together, their bearing poised and noble, their presence powerful.

Adrian Lancaster wore a custom-tailored, ink-black suit with a subtle pattern. The shoulders were sharp and clean, and his restrained aura naturally made him the center of attention without any conscious effort.

He didn’t actively circulate to make small talk, but stood in a relatively open area of the room, calmly greeting the guests and partners who approached him.

"President Lancaster, congratulations to The Rhodes Group on its impressive achievements. Your leading position is irreplaceable. We look forward to deeper collaboration in the future," a director from another conglomerate said respectfully, raising his glass as he approached.

Adrian Lancaster raised his glass and lightly clinked it against the other’s, his voice low and steady. "To a win-win partnership. Thank you all for your support."

Not far away, Wren Sutton stood among a circle of socialites and wives, the clear center of attention.

A moon-white gown with gold accents accentuated her slender, graceful figure. Her long hair was swept up, and the pearl earrings she wore glinted softly with her movements.

Her expression was gentle and serene. She didn’t initiate conversations, nor was she cold or distant. When someone spoke to her, she would respond with a faint smile, her every gesture dignified and elegant.

This was the Lancaster family’s home turf; no one dared to show Wren Sutton the slightest disrespect.

"Mrs. Lancaster, it’s been a while. You’re looking as wonderful as ever," an acquainted matriarch said with a smile, taking her arm.

"I’m sure your two little ones are getting more adorable by the day. President Lancaster is truly a fortunate man."

Wren Sutton’s lips curved into a perfectly measured smile. "Thanks to everyone’s good wishes, everything is fine."

During the pleasant chatter, someone remarked casually, "President Lancaster is so busy with his duties tonight, he hasn’t had much time to spend with you, Mrs. Lancaster."

Wren’s expression didn’t change as she replied with a faint smile, "He’s busy attending to all the guests. Business comes first. He doesn’t need to worry about me."

"Now, Mrs. Lancaster, that’s not right. In President Lancaster’s heart, you are the most important."

"President and Mrs. Lancaster are the model couple in our circle now—happily in love, with a son and a daughter. So many people are envious."

"Yes, yes, they are a match made in heaven, the perfect couple—so talented and beautiful."

Wren Sutton only listened, offering no opinion. Her expression was neutral, betraying no particular emotion.

Meanwhile, Adrian Lancaster was surrounded by a group of CEOs and project partners.

They discussed market trends and annual plans.

"President Lancaster, with a perfect family and career, you’re a true winner in life."

"We should all be asking you for advice."

Adrian Lancaster held his champagne, his expression indifferent. He gave perfunctory nods, refusing to engage with any family-related topics. Within a couple of sentences, he would steer the conversation back to business collaborations, deliberately avoiding all pleasantries about his happy marriage.

Halfway through, a guest came over specifically to try and get a photo of the couple together.

"President Lancaster, why don’t you stand with Mrs. Lancaster for a photo? It’ll be a nice memento."

Adrian paused for a moment but didn’t agree immediately. He simply said coolly, "We have many guests tonight. Taking care of them is the priority."

He had tactfully and subtly refused.

Wren also went along with it, saying, "That’s right. As long as everyone is enjoying themselves, there’s no need for special photos."

The two of them tacitly avoided being framed together intimately, making no show of their affection.

When their eyes occasionally met across the crowd, their gazes would touch for just an instant before moving away.

Like two parallel tracks, they each maintained a dignified appearance, never intersecting.

It was the complete opposite of the charity gala they had attended together, where they had been inseparable, affectionate, and doting the entire time.

It even hinted at a polite but formal distance.

These moments were all captured by certain observant people at the event.

As the gala drew to a close, guests began to leave.

A line of luxury cars was waiting outside the hotel. Most guests were in pairs, husbands and wives waiting side-by-side to leave in the same car.

Wren Sutton politely nodded goodbye to the ladies around her. Her private car had already been arranged and was waiting in a side lane.

From start to finish, she never looked back at Adrian Lancaster, never paused to wait for him, and never offered a single word of farewell. Led by an attendant, she walked straight to her car.

Not far away, Adrian was quietly saying his goodbyes to the last few core directors, his expression calm and detached the entire time.

He caught Wren’s departing figure in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t move, didn’t go after her, didn’t try to stop her, and didn’t even signal for his driver to wait a moment.

The surrounding guests and hidden observers took in the entire scene.

Only after Wren’s car had completely disappeared from view did Adrian conclude his pleasantries.

His driver pulled his car up in front of him. He ducked down and got in alone. The moment the door closed, the car turned and drove in the opposite direction of Wren’s.

The couple’s unusual behavior sparked hushed discussions among the guests.

"What’s going on with President and Mrs. Lancaster today? Something seems off."

"Yeah, I thought so too. It’s like they had a fight, don’t you think?"

"I don’t know, and I wouldn’t dare to speculate. I don’t want to end up like those other families."

"Let’s drop it. Don’t guess wildly, or you’ll bring trouble on yourself."

...

After confirming that Wren Sutton had followed her all the way to her apartment building, Claire Bennett had moved out the very next day. She was still in a top-floor unit of a high-rise apartment.

She was accustomed to the dark. Even at night, she never turned on the lights unless absolutely necessary.

At that moment, she was sitting in an armchair by the window, her left leg resting naturally on the ottoman in front of her, her right leg casually bent.

Claire Bennett knew that The Rhodes Group was hosting a grand business gala tonight, and Adrian Lancaster was certain to attend.

She desperately wanted to go, but she didn’t dare, nor could she.

’What if Wren Sutton exposed her secret right there on the spot? She’d be the one left embarrassed and humiliated.’

Claire Bennett forced herself to resist the urge.

But she didn’t give up. Instead, she paid a hefty sum to bribe the assistant of a CEO to be her spy, keeping an eye on Adrian Lancaster and Wren Sutton’s every move at the gala.

Just as she was thinking about it, a new WeChat message popped up on her phone.

Claire picked it up and eagerly tapped it open.

Several high-definition photos from the gala popped up one after another.

Followed by a few lines of text.

[The gala is over. President Lancaster and Mrs. Lancaster only entered together at the beginning, linking arms for a ceremonial appearance. For the rest of the time, they had zero interaction.]

Claire tapped through the photos one by one.

The first was from the red carpet entrance. Adrian Lancaster was in a high-end black suit, standing tall and straight, with Wren Sutton nestled by his side.

The remaining photos showed no intimacy between them. They were back-to-back, busy with their own things, not even glancing at each other.

In the final photos of the guests dispersing, the two of them were even leaving in separate cars, heading in completely opposite directions, like strangers.

"..." Claire was utterly shocked after seeing everything. It was almost unbelievable.

’How could Adrian suddenly be so cold to Wren?’

’He was never like this before.’

She would never forget that charity gala, how Adrian had doted on, indulged, and spoiled Wren, practically wanting to place her on a pedestal among the heavens.

Every time she thought of it, her heart ached.

’Besides, tonight’s gala was on the Lancaster family’s home turf. On such an important occasion, Adrian’s attitude toward Wren had done a complete one-eighty.’

’Could it be... they had a falling out?!’

The moment that thought surfaced, Claire felt an irrepressible surge of dark satisfaction and ecstasy. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

She had been waiting for this day for far too long.

"Wren Sutton, I told you you were unworthy of your position! You don’t deserve to be Mrs. Lancaster. Sooner or later, the Lancaster family was going to cast you aside."

Seeing the woman she hated to the bone reduced to being estranged from her husband, like two strangers, brought a kind of pleasure more gratifying than any revenge.

The colder Adrian was, the more embarrassing Wren’s situation became.

The crack she had been dreaming of had finally appeared in their unbreakable marriage.

"I knew it, even fate is on my side! HAHAHAHA..."

"Wren Sutton, your good days are over."

"I don’t even have to do anything, and you’ve already fallen into hell on your own."

"You totally deserve it!"

Claire felt more elated and satisfied than ever before. She happily popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

If it weren’t for her inconvenient left leg, she really would have gotten up to dance and twirl around the living room.

After reveling in her joy for a while, Claire suddenly remembered the high-society gossip group chat.

’With something this big happening today, someone in the group must be talking about it.’

Sure enough, when she opened the group, hundreds of new messages had already flown by.

Every single message was discussing the shocking gossip from tonight’s gala, the buzz completely overshadowing all talk of business deals and new product launches.

[Did you guys see? President Lancaster and his wife were so weird tonight. Zero interaction the whole time.]

[I thought I was seeing things, so I watched them all night. They didn’t even make eye contact. Not as lovey-dovey as before.]

[The most shocking part was after the gala, they didn’t go home together! They took separate cars in opposite directions. Are they officially separated?!]

[Weren’t they fine not long ago? They were so in love they were oblivious to the world. It hasn’t even been that long since the Flynn family’s 100-day celebration. How did things suddenly turn out like this?]

[Is there any such thing as ’forever’ in a high-society marriage? The more they flaunted their love before, the bigger the joke it is now. I’m afraid Mrs. Lancaster this time is...]

[Maybe President Lancaster got tired of her? After all, you get bored of anyone after a while, no matter how good-looking they are. Besides, Wren Sutton comes from an ordinary family; it’s hard for her to truly fit into the top-tier wealthy circles.]

[They’re not getting a divorce, are they?! What about the children?]

[You worry too much. Why don’t you raise them? Hahaha.]

Every single comment hit all of Claire’s sweet spots.

Reading the words that mocked Wren and speculated about the couple’s marital crisis, she smiled even more brightly.