The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

Chapter 393: Paige Makes Her Entrance



“Although our nation, A-country, has never officially recognized the existence of slums, everyone knows about the people of Wind Island. They are the lowest of the low, the ones who threaten the stability of our elite system. Dissatisfied with their status, they repeatedly try to disrupt the peace of A-country.”

Rachel stood there and continued, “Paige, a person from the slums-”

*Hiss-*

A sudden, untimely sound interrupted her.

Everyone turned to see Enrico, sitting in the center, pulling his legs down. His elegantly poised hand was near the desk microphone, striking a match with a casual flick.

A small flame ignited, burning the expensive microphone provided by the event organizers.

The loud crackling of the flame filled the hall, cutting Rachel off mid-sentence.

Enrico sat there, idly watching the fire until it got close to his fingertips before flicking it away, silencing the noise. Then, he slowly lifted his gaze and looked directly at Rachel. His eyes were cold, his lips forming a straight line, “You’re not worthy of saying that name. Understand?”

His eyes were full of menace, daring her to say the name again.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“…”

The crowd was abuzz.

Rachel was stunned. She hadn’t expected Enrico to confront her so directly in such a public setting. She hadn’t even fully revealed Paige’s connection to him, yet he outright acknowledged it. Was he crazy?

Was he really willing to admit his association with a death-row inmate from the slums in front of all these financial magnates?

Rachel couldn’t fathom what Enrico was thinking. His glare made her uneasy, and she hesitated, unable to say Paige’s name again. Instead, she continued, “Three years ago, she changed her name and enrolled in The Capital University. She founded Peak Club, was received by President Rafael, and nearly became a member of the public law council. What was her goal? She aimed to rebuild the slums, to liberate the low-class population of Wind Island.”

“…”

The hall fell into a dead silence.

After the recent news, everyone had started recalling events from three years ago.

“And once they are free, they will wreak havoc on A-country-murder, arson, drug trafficking, spreading diseases,” Rachel declared righteously. “This recent terror incident in River Town was her doing, yet she framed my brother for it. My poor brother, barely in his twenties with a bright future ahead, was ruined by her!”

“…”

“These low-class people cannot be released. They will become parasites of A-country, gnawing at its foundation, plunging the entire nation into chaos!”

Rachel stood there, looking delicate but speaking with a firm, righteous conviction.

Her words were well-crafted, but everyone understood her real message: A-country’s foundation lay in the hands of these financial elites. If the lower classes were freed, all their hidden wrongdoings would come to light.

Nobody wanted their secrets exposed.

“…”

Rafael furrowed his brow.

He glanced at Enrico. Well, she came prepared; today’s situation wouldn’t be resolved so easily.

Enrico, meanwhile, was stacking a tower of matchsticks on the table, balancing them delicately without toppling them. It seemed as long as no one mentioned “Paige,” he couldn’t care less about the proceedings.

Denver sat there, watching Enrico’s relaxed demeanor. How could he be so confident?

“I also agree. The low-class population should remain on Wind Island for life,” someone chimed in. “Our country operates on an elite system. Economic prosperity and social welfare have always been our strengths. Releasing those people will only disrupt everything we’ve built.”

“I agree too,” another added. “But the real question now is, how did this death-row inmate survive?”

Denver’s booming voice cut through the room as he shifted his gaze toward Rafael. “President Rafael, earlier you avoided the topic. Now, in this setting, can you address it?”

All eyes turned toward Rafael.

“…”

Rafael felt immense pressure. He straightened his suit and leaned forward to the microphone. “Regarding this matter-”

“Regarding this matter, don’t you think it would be more valuable to hear from the person in question?”

A cold voice suddenly echoed through the speakers, filling every corner of the hall.

Enrico, in the middle of placing another matchstick on his tower, froze for a second. His lips curled into a smile, his heart stirred, and the matchstick tower collapsed.

He turned his eyes, intrigued, toward the grand gilded doors.

The audience followed his gaze. The intricately carved doors were pushed open, and a group of young professionals in formal attire walked in, expressionless. Among them were the pop star Carrie, a pharmacologist, and a prosecutor.

They respectfully stepped aside, revealing a slender, tall figure.

The woman’s face was strikingly pure, her almond-shaped eyes sharp and clear, free of any blemish. A light makeup accentuated her already perfect features. She looked like a college student, but her fitted black suit, embroidered with subtle patterns, paired with diamond tassel earrings glinting in the light, gave her an air of sophistication.

Her entire presence was elegant yet imposing.

She walked gracefully into the grand hall, her heels clicking against the polished floor. As her long lashes lifted, any trace of innocence was gone, replaced by a hunter’s deadly gaze.

The coldness radiated from her core, her pale skin almost screaming that she was not to be trifled with.

The audience was initially captivated by her beauty, but upon closer inspection, they were shocked.

This was the Paige who had supposedly died but was now alive and well!

Rachel stood there, stunned. She couldn’t believe her eyes. How could Paige dare show up at such an event?

Rafael was equally surprised. What was going on?

Had Paige lost her mind?

“…”

How could someone make a simple suit look so eye-catching? He wanted to hide her away.

Enrico, watching, pursed his lips, a little annoyed. But in the next moment, he noticed the subtle pattern on Paige’s suit.

He looked down. It matched the pattern on his tie.

Tsk.

His woman really did love him. Even at a finance summit, she chose to wear matching outfits.

All his discontent vanished instantly.

“Death-row inmate!” someone shouted, panicking. “Guards! Guards! Why are you just standing there? Arrest her! She’s still alive! She’s a murderer! Guards!”

The scene became chaotic, unbefitting of such a prestigious finance summit.

Several guards rushed forward toward Paige.

Nick and Carrie raised their hands to stop them, presenting their invitation letters. The guards hesitated.

Paige stood calmly, slowly unwrapping a mint candy in front of everyone’s stunned faces, and popped it into her mouth, savoring the cool freshness.


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