Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 165

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Chapter 165 “Ms. March, aren't you gonna givethe lowdown?” The sharp words were ringing in my ears. | steadied myself and coolly said, “President Stapleton, it wasn’t me.” “It wasn’t you?” Shirley's eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “Then who could it be?” She clearly wasn’t buying what | was selling.

| patiently laid it out for her, “If | had a message for you, | could've cto you directly. Why would | beat around the bush?” Shirley’s eyes were darting around, suspicion written all over her face. “Then why on earth are people singling you out, Xaviera?” | was choked up, unable to respond.

Yeah, Id also like to know why, when passing along a message, they had to drag my name, Xaviera, into it.

Wasn't that just throwingunder the bus? Settingup to take the fall? And here | was, with no solid proof to clear my name.

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| felt pretty helpless, to be honest.

Of course, no one was gonna be chummy with someone who spilled the beans about others, especially not this crowd of playful rich kids.

And just like that, Shirley's comment had them all givingthe side-eye.

Those were looks of skepticism. [x] The more | thought about it, the angrier | got, and my gaze involuntarily landed on the man sitting nonchalantly across the way.

Cool as a cucumber, Hogan was still the sold Hogan.

Thinking back to what went down the day before, | couldn't help but suspect that he was up to his neck in this whole mess.

“President Stapleton, you're so sure it was Xaviera who passed the message to you, but do you have any proof?” A crisp voice snappedout of my thoughts. Timothy's 1/2 11:01 Chapter 165 arm rested casually on my shoulder as he said, “You can’t just throw accusations around without evidence.” “Mr. Temple, what are you implying?” Shirley's eyes widened, her irritation flaring up. “Are you saying I’m stirring up trouble on purpose?” Timothy shrugged, “I didn't say that, but Xaviera is my guest, so naturally, I've got her back.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unspoken weight.

The point of contention shifted to Timothy and Shirley.

The atmosphere took a nosedive.

“President Stapleton, actually, there's a way to sort this out,” a sweet voice suddenly piped up. “Since someone else was supposed to have passed the message, why don’t we just call them over and ask? Maybe there's been smisunderstanding.” It was Cecilia speaking, eyes demurely downcast, her tone soft and her suggestion hitting the nail on the head, earning nods of approval from many.

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In theory, this sounded like a way to prove my innocence, but why then did | feel even more uneasy? “That's a good idea,” Shirley agreed with the suggestion and then turned toand Timothy, asking, “Mr.

Temple, Ms. March, what do you think?” As if I had a choice.

With things having escalated to this point, | had to find a way to clear my name, so | agreed, “Let’s go with what you suggest, President Stapleton.” Luckily, the hotel was crawling with cameras, so finding the messenger wouldn't be tough. Sure enough, in less than an hour, they brought that person to the main hall.

It was a middle-aged woman, around forty or so.

She glanced around at everyone, then at Shirley, and said, “I'm just the messenger. What do you all want with me?” Shirley tossed the question to the middle-aged woman, commanding, “Pick out the Person who asked you to carry the message from those present.” The woman nodded, her dull eyes scanning us, and my heart started racing.

After a moment, | saw the woman point atand say, “It was her, she’s the one who toldto pass the message.”

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