The Billionaire’s Maid Bride

Chapter 555

At the time, Allison was already asleep. Her eyes fluttered open, blurred by dreams, as she groped for her phone. Seeing the number, she paused. A flicker of confusion crossed her face. She sat up, staring at the screen. The ringtone was a persistent echo in the quiet room. Seconds ticked by before her fingertip hesitantly made contact with the screen, and the call connected.

Her voice was raspy from sleep. “Hello?”

On the other end was Lucian’s deep voice. “I’ve got Epic Entertainment handling that online mess. Don’t you worry about it. Your career won’t take a hit.”

A bittersweet smile brushed Allison’s lips. Was this why he was calling, in the dead of night?

Silence hung between them. Allison was unsure of what to say. Did Lucian believe the woman in the photos was her?

Neither of them spoke.

Allison’s grip on her phone tightened. She took a deep breath, which was audible to both. Neither made a move to end the call. Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Glancing at the clock, she noted the late hour and finally broke the silence. “Lucian, did you call just to tell me this?”

Lucian’s voice came through, tired yet gentle. “It’s late. I won’t keep you from your rest.”

He was about to hang up when she stopped him. “Lucian.” Her voice carried a mix of vulnerability and confusion. “Do you believe that’s me in the photos?”

On the other side of the line, Lucian sat before his floor-to-ceiling window. His fingers were tensing. He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was darkening, and his thoughts. were a mess. He had seen those photos a year ago. Back then, he was furious. The woman he was with was not a first-timer. He despised women who were unclean in virtue, whose lives were a chaotic chase after vanity.

But now…

“It doesn’t matter to me whether it’s you or not in those photos. Allison, I won’t let you go, either way.”

He cared for Allison, not for a past that the photos might suggest. He didn’t want his trust in her to waver because of some images. He had thought those photos were destroyed. How had they surfaced now? Clearly, it was a deliberate act.

“It’s not me!” Allison’s voice was adamant. “Lucian, the woman in the photos is Penelope!”

Lucian was shocked. His eyes were darkening. He stood up abruptly, clutching the balcony railing, staring out into the enigmatic night.

His fingers clenched the cold metal. His mind burst with a flash of insight.

“What did you say?”

Penelope was the girl in the photos? How could that be?

Allison insisted, “It’s her. I’m telling the truth. I know you might not believe me, and I don’t want to argue. I have proof, but will you look at it? Lucian, ask yourself, what do you want to believe? In those photos, it’s me or Penelope?”

Silence fell once again.

“Allison, you’re tired. Get some rest.” And the line went dead.

Allison hugged herself, retreating to a corner. Her tears were falling silently.

A tear traced down her cheek, as she laughed hollowly at herself. She knew it. Lucian wouldn’t believe her. Nor would he believe that the woman in the photos was Penelope. No one would take the word of a woman with humble beginnings over that of a high society lady.

Lucian, that man, was only infatuated with her body, while Penelope was his fiancée meant to be protected, for the sake of the Lindberg family’s reputation. The Lindberg name couldn’t be tied to someone with a tainted image. It would mean a blow to the Lindberg Corporation’s stocks and the family’s standing.

So even if she declared the woman was Penelope, Lucian would never believe her.