Marrying the Man in the Dark

Chapter 1057



Chapter 1057 Confronting the Unthinkable Truth

As Steve gazed at her in a daze, Cherise took a deep breath and got straight to the point, her voice low and intense, "Trent's using

Savannah in Calais, pure exploitation."

Steve's eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Yes, you heardcorrectly," Cherise confirmed, her tone steady and unwavering.

Cherise paused tically, her gaze intense as she spoke, "Though I can't confirm, word is Savannah's boyfriend struck a deal

with Trent. Money changed hands, and Savannah found herself in Trent's web."

Damien's eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in his gaze. "Sounds like you've hit a nerve."

Cherise nodded solemnly. "Sebastian's definitely in Calais."

The bombshells from Cherise and Damien jolted Steve. His chair scraped against the floor with a thunderous echo as he sprung to

his feet.

Staring at them in disbelief, he questioned, "You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"How is this even possible!"

His face drained of color, leaving him pale as he scrutinized Cherise and Damien. Their solemn expressions, etched with gravity,

left no room for doubt - they were deadly serious.

Yet...

"This is impossible."

As panic surged through him, Steve's reflexes took over. He recoiled, his movements wild and uncontrolled, causing him to stumble

backward. He collided with the chair with a sudden jolt, sending it tumbling to the floor in a chaotic cascade of wood and fabric.

The thunderous crash of the chair reverberated through the restaurant, instantly seizing the attention of every patron within

earshot. Heads turned sharply, conversations halted, and all eyes fixated on the source of the commotion.

Brushing off the disturbance, Steve shook his head in disbelief. "You can't be serious..."

"I've met Trent face-to-face..."

"He poured his heart out about his undying love for Savannah..."

"We pored over their photos, watched videos of their bliss... it all felt so real."

"Trent and Savannah have been together for at least seven or eight years... He wouldn't betray her like this," Steve muttered to

himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

"It's implausible... If... if Trent truly betrayed her..."

"Then I might as well have lured Savannah into a trap..."

Raising his eyes to meet Cherise's, he pleaded, "Cherry, you're joking, aren't you?"

Cherise locked eyes with him, but her silence spoke volumes.

With a heavy heart, Steve slumped into the chair, his hands running through his hair in a gesture of remorse. "I... I can't believe I

may have led Sav into this..."

As Cherise observed Steve's demeanor, a wave of melancholy washed over her, punctuated by a sharp pang of sadness.

Despite the passage of years, he remained unchanged from high school.

Despite the years that had passed, he hadn't changed a bit from his high school days.

Savannah always had his heart.

Once the beacon of solace in times past, it was now Cherise who exhaled a weary sigh.

The weight of responsibility still bore down upon her shoulders, a burden she could not shake.

She deeply breathed and reassured Steve, "Steve, this isn't your fault." Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

"Even after all those years together, Sav couldn't see through Trent's facade. Your recent run-in with him? Not your fault," Cherise

reassured.

"Now's not the tfor beating yourself up. We've got to find Savannah and Trent, pronto," she emphasized.

Steve hesitated, then nodded firmly, "Hmm."

"Did you reach out to Trent first?" Damien asked, his voice gentle, brows furrowed in concern.

Steve nodded in affirmation. "Yeah."

"I tracked down Trent's old high school buddy, got his digits, and made the first move," Steve explained.

"But with everything going on, chances are slim he'll pick up my calls," he added, a hint of frustration in his tone.

"Hmm."

Damien's brow furrowed. "Does his high school buddy have his address?"

Steve paused, realization dawning. "He's gotta know."

Without another word, he swiftly retrieved his phone and dialed a number, determination flashing in his eyes.

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