"We’ve received word that you’re connected to the Fla Explosion case. Is this true?"
"It’s rumored Miss Tian’s car was scratched on your orders. Does Miss ng have an explanation for this?!"
"Did Miss ng really have plastic surgery?"
"Miss ng..."
"ng..."
...
The overlapping voices of the reporters wove together like a net of words, enveloping Irene Spencer until her head began to throb.
Kris Cooper... how did he know so much about her?!
Not wanting to dwell on it, Irene thrust out her hand to push away the microphones in her face.
"Go away! All of you, go away!"
Her voice was sharp and rushed. She was on the brink of hysteria.
"I didn’t... Go away..."
"Miss ng!"
...
Unwilling to let her leave so easily, the reporters surged towards Irene without restraint.
Snapping photos, grabbing at her, pulling her, interrogating her...
Like a madwoman, Irene lifted her bags and swung them harshly at the reporters before her.
Recorders clattered to the ground, reporters were shoved aside, and sothing struck soone on the head...
The scene descended into chaos. Her assistant rushed over, pushing through the crowd to help Irene. She fought her way out of the reporters’ encirclent and imdiately ran towards a nearby taxi, suitcase in hand.
So reporters snapped pictures, others chased after her, and a few even jumped into their cars, ready to give chase.
Irene yanked open the taxi door, clutched her small suitcase, slid into the back seat, and quickly slamd the door shut.
"Drive!"
"Miss Irene, Archie isn’t in the car yet!" the assistant said, turning from the front passenger seat.
Just then, the other assistant ran up, dragging a suitcase, and scrambled into the back seat.
"Quick, drive!"
Irene yelled again. The driver slamd the accelerator, and the car sped towards the community gate.
From the opposite lane, a police car approached. As the two vehicles drew near, the police car suddenly swerved, blocking Irene’s taxi.
The taxi driver slamd on the brakes, the vehicle screeching to a halt, and stuck his head out of the window.
"What’s with the police? How the hell do you drive?!"
The two assistants frowned. In the back seat, an ominous premonition stirred within Irene.
The police car doors opened. Michael Freenan and two colleagues got out, walked up to the taxi, glanced into the window, and then lightly tapped on Irene’s side.
Irene pressed her lips together and remained still.
"Get out!" Michael Freenan ordered, his voice low and stern.
Realizing sothing was wrong, the driver hastily unlocked the car doors. An officer standing beside Michael Freenan pulled open Irene’s door, his expression grim as he stared at her.
"Irene Spencer, get out of the car!"
Seeing this, the two assistants quickly scrambled out of the car.
"Officer, what’s going on here?!"
By this ti, Irene had also stepped out of the car.
The reporters, not far off, saw the police stop her car. They imdiately grabbed their equipnt and rushed over, caras still rolling.
Michael Freenan glanced at the distant reporters, then turned his gaze back to Irene. His voice was grave as he said, "Miss Irene, we currently suspect you are involved in a case of illegal drug use. Please accompany us to the station to assist with our investigation."
"But, Miss ng, she..."
The assistant started to speak up for her, but eting Michael Freenan’s gaze, he was imdiately cowed by the officer’s authoritative presence and fell silent.
A female police officer stepped forward and took Irene’s arm.
"Get in the car!"
The scene unfolded under a barrage of cara flashes, each burst capturing the mont.
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