New beginning: Billionaire love story

Chapter 413 Showing Up at Her Penthouse

In a hurry, Christian burst through the office door, barely giving it a knock. "Alex, you won't believe this-Claire's been arrested!"

Alexander's eyes widened as he straightened up from his desk, looking almost baffled by the news. "Arrested? Are you serious?" He could hardly believe it, but Christian thrust his phone in Alexander's direction, the headline already blaring across the screen. Alexander took the phone, reading the news alert multiple times as if expecting it to change with each read-through.

"It's real?" he asked, still staring at the screen, disbelief etched across his face.

"Unfortunately, yes," Christian confirmed with a solemn nod. "There's even a video clip of her being escorted into the police car."

Alexander handed Christian's phone back and sighed, quickly pulling his own phone out and dialing Claire's number. Unsurprisingly, it went straight to voicemail. Of course, if she was actually in a cell somewhere, answering his calls would be impossible. He clenched his jaw, frustrated.

Christian watched his boss with a knowing look. "Are we going down there?"

Alexander shook his head reluctantly, leaning back against his desk. "No. If I show up, it'll only create more of a media circus. I'll wait until things calm down and call her later." He tried to sound convincing, but Christian could see Alexander's hesitation. "Besides," he added, more to himself, "Claire will hate the extra attention."

Meanwhile, at Venus AMD, Frank was busy nursing a bruised ego. Monday's disastrous press release was still fresh in everyone's minds, and the board members had not been pleased far from it. His phone was already ringing with business partners calling to complain about Venus' incompetence, and some even hinted that their brand image was being tarnished by association with Venus. Frank could barely look at his phone anymore without seeing a new message about the debacle. Every news story he'd seen about the press event had a certain name attached to it that he despised: Claire. Despite his big plans, she'd managed to steal the spotlight just by stepping in to fix a botched presentation.

The knock on his door startled him out of his fuming, and he growled, "Come in!"

Robert walked in, not looking the least bit intimidated by Frank's irritation. He held a remote and looked at Frank, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to want to see this," he said, turning on the television. The news flickered onto the screen, and there it was-another Claire headline.

Frank frowned. "What's this now?"

Robert nodded at the screen. "Claire Peterson. She's at the police station. Rumor is, there's enough evidence to keep her there for a while."

with each passing second. "Finally. This is exactly the kind of news I needed to hear. Maybe the

be so quick to celebrate. But, I guess... it could mean the

through his mind. "Imagine what this could mean for us! We should make a statement-something about how Metacortex can't even stay out of jail, let alone run a company." He was practically

know some people might bring

shrugged, the smug grin still plastered across his face. "As long as they're talking about Claire

Frank could feel his plans setting into motion, a sense of renewed

now and then refreshing his screen to see if there were any updates on Claire's situation. After what felt like an eternity, a notification popped

his brows furrowing as he scanned the article. A photo showed Claire stepping out of the police station, accompanied by a woman he didn't recognize and none other than Mr.

Was Saint Laurent involved in her release? He doubted she'd ask for help like that, but it only made him more

few moments

made up his mind.

answer his

it about the hotel's reputation, how her latest scandal could impact the Harris Hotel's image. It was a weak excuse, but at least it would get him through the door. He'd rather argue with her than continue this frustrating

headed straight to Claire's penthouse after a long day, knowing she'd probably be fuming. The clock ticked past 9 PM when he finally parked outside her place, his fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. He make his way up to her penthouse and pressed her doorbell and waited, listening to the silence on the other side. No answer. He frowned, wondering

and eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Alexander?" she demanded, her

up in mock surrender. "Heard you made the headlines again, Ms.

as dramatic as they're making it out to be," she muttered, though her sigh gave away her frustration. She shut the door behind him and

as she sunk into the armchair, exasperated. "Care to explain?" he asked, folding his arms. "Because

breath, visibly trying to calm herself before looking at him. "Look, this whole mess is a massive misunderstanding.

her carefully. "Alright, so how'd you even manage to get out?" he asked. "I'm assuming you had

when it all went down," she replied flatly. "The

curious. "And yet, they still managed

sighed heavily, running a