Chapter 150
Chapter 150:
“My life is over!” he wailed, his voice cracking with perfect dramatic timing. “That was a Stradivarius! It was 1715! It was my soul p>
Around him, the lobby had descended into chaos. Guests in evening wear pushed forward, holding their smartphones up like shields, recording every tear and every scream. Camera flashes popped in a relentless, disorienting staccato.
Jocelyn pushed through the wall of bodies. Her heart was hammering. The noise was physical — a solid wall of sound that made her temples throb.
“Step back!” she said, her voice carrying authority without raising in volume. The front row of spectators shuffled backward. “Give him space. Security, clear the area p>
Fо𝘭𝘭𝗼𝘄 𝘂𝘀 о𝘯.с𝗈𝗺
She reached the center of the circle. Zack looked up at her, his eyes red and streaming.
“You!” He leveled a shaking finger at her. “You are responsible! Your security is a joke! You let them steal it p>
Jocelyn ignored him and scanned the perimeter.
There.
Lurking behind a large potted palm near the concierge desk, as though he belonged there, was Vincent. He was pressing a handkerchief to his forehead, his face the color of spoiled milk. He wasn’t cowering — he was observing, a vulture waiting for the moment to descend.
Jocelyn walked toward him, her heels striking the marble in a sharp, deliberate rhythm.
“Vincent,” she said. Her voice was stripped of everything but cold precision. “What are you doing here? You don’t work here anymore p>
Vincent startled. His eyes moved around the room, searching for an exit. “I heard there was trouble. I came to help. Family helps family.” The attempt at sincerity was pathetic.
“Where is Harvey?” she asked, dropping her voice to something dangerous. “He was supposed to be personally overseeing the vault p>
“Kitchen crisis,” Vincent said, a fraction too quickly. “The soup for the gala was cold. I told him it was an emergency and he had to handle it himself p>
Jocelyn closed her eyes for one brief second. He had used Harvey’s dedication and professionalism against him — weaponized his reliability. Pure, deliberate sabotage.
“Step aside,” she said.
The heavy glass entrance doors swung open. Blue light washed across the lobby, painting every face in a ghostly strobe. Detective Miller walked in with four uniformed officers. He looked tired and unhurried.
“Nobody leaves,” Miller announced, his voice bored but loud enough to carry. “We’re sealing the room p>
Zack scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the detective, still clutching his piece of broken wood.
“Officer! Arrest her!” he screamed, pointing at Jocelyn. “This hotel is a deathtrap! They destroyed a piece of history p>
Miller looked at Zack. Then at Jocelyn. He walked to her.
“Ms. Wolfe,” he said, with a brief nod. “We received a call regarding grand larceny p>
“We are cooperating fully, Detective,” Jocelyn said, keeping her spine straight against the weight of every accusatory look in the room. “I want this investigated completely. Every camera. Every employee p>
“We’ll need the tapes,” Miller said.
“You’ll have them p>
Message from Noa: Have a beautiful Tuesday dear ones. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. /