Chapter 738
Chapter 738:
The trophy he clutched in his hand was no longer a symbol of victory; it had turned into a burden so heavy that his fingers trembled under its pressure.
“Neal, my son, you’re incredible!” The man’s voice rang out from the crowd, loud and unrelenting. “Just like I said, you’re amazing, haha…” The tone was a twisted mix of pride and desperation, and it seemed to echo around him, making the arena feel like a prison.
“It’s really him, isn’t it? I saw the police bulletin not long ago. They said he was connected to a kidnapping!”
“Seriously? Then that guy’s a monster!”
“How could Neal have a father like that? People always say that fathers and sons are alike… Could it be that Neal—”
Before another word could escape, Bonita sprang to her feet, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. “Enough!” she shouted, turning to face the group of girls behind her. Her eyes blazed with fury. “You don’t know a thing! Neal and his…
“Father and son are two independent individuals, and they are entirely different! Don’t you dare make that comparison!”
Bonita’s eyes were wide with emotion, her pupils raw with a mixture of rage and disbelief. Tremors coursed through her body, but she stood her ground—her only mission now was to shield the last shred of light she could see in Neal.
She was a wild, desperate force, clawing for warmth in a world gone cold.
The girls froze in shock, stunned by Bonita’s unexpected outburst. With effort, Bonita quieted her shaking and turned her gaze toward Neal.
Her lips pressed together, a fire burning in her eyes—something resolute, unfamiliar even to her. Without hesitation, she stood up and began her determined march toward the stage.
Moments ago, he had been so full of sincerity, inviting his girlfriend to join him. The emotion in his voice had been undeniable, and she couldn’t just let that pass.
She longed to be there with him, to declare to everyone that she was his girlfriend, the one who would stand beside him through it all, cheering him on.
𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲 ⧼gⱥ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧽𝖼𝗈𝗺
But just as she was about to move past the row, Neal turned on the stage, suddenly retreating.
His movements were swift, his back radiating a panic she could almost feel. It was as if he was running from something.
“Neal, you—” the man bellowed from the crowd, calling out to his son. But before he could say another word, officers swarmed in, quickly cuffing him.
“Wait, what’s going on? What did I do? Neal! Help me, please!”
The man struggled fiercely, but the officers were swift and experienced. They overpowered him with ease, guiding him out of the venue without a second thought.
The once-bustling event venue, capable of holding over a thousand people, had fallen eerily silent. The only sound left was the man’s desperate cries, reverberating throughout the space.
Any lingering doubts about the man’s identity quickly vanished with the arrival of the police. His involvement in a crime was now unmistakably clear.
How could Neal be connected to someone like that? Did he even know the extent of his father’s actions?
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