Chapter 91

All traces of the gossip linking Marc and Marissa had vanished from the internet, wiped so clean it was as if it had never existed.

Yet, the Fletcher family's name still dominated the trending charts, holding firm among the top three topics.

Caught up in a whirlwind of work, Marc hadn't found the time to look into the chaos surrounding them.

Without hesitation, he gave a clear order to his team-every mention of the Fletcher family was to be scrubbed from every platform immediately.

However, the moment his offer went up, someone else raised the stakes, determined to keep the topic alive.What followed was an online tug-of-war between equally powerful forces, slowing the platforms to a crawl as pages struggled to load.

"Rissa, leave this mess to me. I'll take care of it," Marc said as he sifted through a stack of photographs.

The images had come directly from Boden, who had clearly enjoyed himself while compiling them.

If he could, Marc thought, Boden would've added witty captions under each photo.

Marissa and Theodore looked every bit the perfect pair.

After sending the photos to his brothers in the Curtis family group chat, Marc didn't have to wait long for their reactions to roll in.

Everyone, except Andrew, who voiced his strong objection, agreed that Theodore and Marissa should be left alone to see where things might lead.

If their bond deepened, all the better. But if it didn't, then no matter how remarkable Theodore was,he still wouldn't be the right man for her.

Inside the car, a calm silence lingered while Marc's voice filtered through the speaker. Marissa wasn't certain whether Theodore had already made his move, though she suspected he was quietly working behind the scenes. He always struck her as someone who planned several steps.

"Give me a moment. I'll ask him myself," Marissa said, turning toward Theodore.

Wilbur looked like he wanted to interrupt, but thought better of it.

"I haven't made a move yet," Theodore answered eveny,his tone giving nothing away.

"Understood," Marc replied before pausing briefly. His voice softened as he asked, "Rissa, what is it that you really want to happen?"

"Marc, let's leave this matter aside for now. I already have something in motion," Marissa said with quiet confidence.

Having recognized her capability, Marc didn't press for details. "If you need my help, you only have to ask.I'll be here," he said to her.

"I appreciateit111Marissa replied before ending the call.

Since Theodore hadn't taken any steps yet, it left her wondering who had meddled.

It didn't take long for Marissa to piece it together-Evelina's hand was almost certainly in play.

Things were only warming up, not yet at the point of real concern. She had already instructed Benny to inform her once the situation escalated enough for the authorities to step in, giving her time to prepare.

With Marc staying out of it, Bryson was unable to compete with the power behnd those,trending manipulations. He had little choice but to withdraw.

Back in his office, Bryson ended a tense call with Evelina and pressed his fingers to his temples, weariness seeping through him.

On his desk, his assistant had already placed a slip of paper with a private investigator's number-an option Bryson was beginning to seriously consider.

"Any updates?" Bryson's tone carried a low edge, calm but expectant. "None so far," the assistant answered quickly, already tense. It had barely been any time at all-results couldn't appear out of thin air.

Bryson's thumb hesitated over Marissa's contact, uncertainty flickering in his gaze.

The number had come from Evelina, of course.

Bryson couldn't bring himself to believe that the Curtis family would step in to clean up Marissa's mess.

He was certain she was just a passing fancy for Marc, who would discard her soon enough.

Men born into wealth always protected their image. Before choosing a wife who matched their social standing, they made sure nothing-no scandal, no woman-could stain their name.

Now that Marissa had lost the Fletcher family's shield, Bryson wondered how she would endure the storm that followed.

The strange thing was, she hadn't called him. Did Marc care for her after all? Had he been the one to clean everything up?

Bryson opened the app again-this time,he skipped the threads about the Fletcher family and went straight to search for the ones linking Marissa and Marc.

However,after reaching the very end of the feed, Bryson still found nothing.

Could Marc truly be that devoted to Marissa?

A faint irritation stirred within Bryson as he reopened the top trending lists.

The same headlines glared back-every one of them revolving around the Fletcher family, every comment dripping with contempt toward Marissa. Something in his chest twisted at the sight.

For a family with as much influence as the Curtis family, shouldn't this have been dealt with already?

His thumb hovered over the call screen, hesitation flickering across his face. Reaching out now might only deepen Marissa's attachment to him, making it harder for her to move on.

Still, he reasoned, as her brother-in-law, lending a hand wouldn't be out of place. Then again, maybe it would be better to wait until she turned to him first.

But that was unlikely-Marissa wasn't the type to ask for help easily.

"Have any unfamiliar numbers been trying to reach us?" Bryson finally asked, shifting tactics.

At first, the assistant looked puzzled. Then, noticing the call screen glowing on Bryson's phone,he ventured a guess. "A distress call, perhaps?"

The implication wasn't lost on him-Bryson seemed to be waiting for Marissa to reach out.

"That's right," Bryson answered evenly, his tone giving nothing away.

Helping her wasn't something he wanted to do, yet refusing to act felt even worse.

His gaze drifted toward his assistant.

"Maybe it's best if you phone Miss Marissa Fletcher instead,"the assistant said carefully.

"Why should I?" Bryson shot back, his expression darkening.

Truthfully, he just didn't want to be the first to make the move, which was exactly why he'd asked in the first place.

Finally grasping the turmoil in Bryson's mind, the assistant said gently,′′Sirishe might be feeling lost right now... unsure who else she can turn to."

"Feeling lost?" Bryson muttered to himself. Marissa had never been one to break down easily, unlike Evelina.StiIl, the question lingered. Why hadn't she reached out to him yet?

The assistant explained, "Miss Marissa Fletcher might be unsettled. She's never dealt with anything like this before. Even strong women falter when things spiral out of control. Sometimes, they just need someone to remind them they're not alone. Maybe you should call her."

No reply came from Bryson. His silence was heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts.

"You're her brother-in-law," the assistant added.|′Sperfectly reasonable for you to check in. She'd probably appreciate the gesture." It was easy to see what Bryson was really doing-searching for a reason that would justify his concern.

The assistant felt a pang of sympathy for Bryson's wife-poor Evelina, lying in a hospital bed, completely unaware of her husband's concern for her sister.