Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 854

Callie paused, recalling Ambrose's earlier attempt to frighten her. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she teased, "Mr. Ambrose, could it be that you're unable to make that jump?"

Ambrose's voice rose defensively. "How could that even be? I can handle six guys without breaking a sweat. A simple trick like that is beneath me. I just couldn't be bothered!"

"I see," Callie said, getting up and walking over to Helen. "They say people tend to raise their voices when they're feeling guilty. Come on, Helen, let's go get something to eat. I'm starving after all this tension!"

With that, Helen and Callie left together, arm in arm.

Ambrose stood there, looking brazen. He muttered to himself, "Who's feeling guilty? Certainly not me."

"Whatever," Shawn quipped. Unable to tolerate Ambrose's attitude any longer, he headed next door.

After dinner, Ambrose patted his stomach, ready to head out.

Meanwhile, Shawn continued rummaging through his bag, trying to squeeze an assortment of items into his pockets.

"Oh, come on," Ambrose remarked, lazily leaning against the pillar with a look of disdain. "He's just a wimpy college kid. Why all the fuss? You're such a worrywart!"

"What do you know?" Shawn retorted, still rummaging through his bag. "That guy went to great lengths to tarnish the boss' name. He's not just any troublemaker.

"I need to carry some medicine for protection. Do you really expect me to rely on a muscle-bound airhead like you?"

Ambrose was idly picking his teeth. As he pondered Shawn's words, he started to recognize their validity. For once, he found himself without a rebuttal.

Once Shawn had everything organized, they were finally ready to set off.

Before long, the sound of a car pulling up outside filled the air.

Feeling uneasy, Michelle swiftly climbed back up to the rooftop. Upon seeing who had arrived, she called out, "You don't need to go anymore."

Intrigued, Callie decided to join them inside.

Reggie placed Owen on a chair before quietly exiting the room. His expression was devoid of emotion, resembling that of a robot carrying out its duties.

As Callie slammed the door shut, Helen swiftly removed the tape from Owen's mouth.

"I knew it was you, Helen. You're scrambling to cover your tracks, aren't you? Isn't this a bit hasty?" Owen retorted, his trademark cynicism cutting through.

"I don't think jealousy is your only motive. Tell me, who instructed you to frame Callie?" Helen demanded, getting straight to the point.

"Instructed me? With my prestigious education and promising future, why would I compromise myself by taking orders and putting everything at risk?" Owen sneered.

"And besides, where is your evidence? You can't provide any, but I certainly can—I am living proof that you're the murderer!"