Chapter 385
Chapter 385:
He sneered and asked, “This guy refuses to get up to help. Could it be because he’s hiding something? Maybe he’s the one who stole the beautiful lady’s underwear p>
When the others heard Flint’s suggestion, their eyes widened like a light bulb had turned on.
Upon further reflection, they started to believe it might be true. Why would a man repeatedly refuse such a beautiful woman’s request for help?
Surely, he must be feeling guilty, and that was why he couldn’t bring himself to stand up!
Notably, there was a clothes basket next to Ashton. Though they couldn’t make out the contents clearly, they could see it was filled with various clothes.
Suddenly, it all seemed to make sense to them. No man would carry so many clothes with him just to take a bath in the hot spring.
Convinced they had cracked the case, they began to shout, “We’ve caught the thief. It’s him! Come and catch the thief! Today, we must bring this uncouth criminal to justice p>
As Flint began his tirade of accusations, the others around him eagerly fanned the flames.
Within moments, it wasn’t just the group in the waiting area joining the fray. People soaking in the hot springs, their relaxation interrupted, drifted over, eager to see the spectacle unravel.
Most of the crowd had no idea what was really happening.
They simply saw Ashton standing at the center of the group, heard Flint’s bold claims, and assumed the worst. It wasn’t long before they, too, started pointing fingers and throwing around accusations.
Ashton felt the sting of unfairness sinking in. He hadn’t done a thing wrong, yet here he was, the scapegoat in a twisted drama.
𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝘁 gⲁⳑ𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧽ⅽ𝗈𝗺
“Are we done here?” Ashton’s voice cut through the crowd, his frustration sharpening every word. “You’re accusing me of stealing, but where’s your proof?” From the crowd, someone fired back with all the enthusiasm of a spectator who smelled blood in the water, “Isn’t the evidence right there in that basket of clothes next to you? If you’re innocent, prove it!” The crowd lit up, their eyes bright with excitement. This was what they came for—the drama, the confrontation. Nods and murmurs rippled through them, the weight of public opinion now squarely crushing down on Ashton.
He frowned, hesitating.
The basket held Rosalie’s clothes—her private clothes, including her underwear.
There was no way he was showing his girlfriend’s private items to these vultures.
Shaking his head, Ashton spat back, “You don’t have the right to dig through my personal stuff. Those are my girlfriend’s clothes—they’ve got nothing to do with her.” He pointed to Dora, his tone cutting through the growing tension.
But Dora, now convinced she had him cornered, leaned in with venom. “I don’t care! If you won’t show us, I’ll assume you’re hiding something! And if you think we don’t have the right, fine—we’ll call the cops and let them have a look p>
Ashton held his ground. “Call them if you want, but think carefully about what you’re getting into. If they search and find nothing, you’re going to owe me a public apology. Online, for everyone to see p>