Love, Hate, and Revenge

Chapter 4

In the night of City A, dazzling lights created halos in the dark sky. The stars twinkled brightly, and pedestrians brushed past one another on the streets, each in a hurry.

Ivy Winthrop wandered along the bustling avenue, her mind in a daze.

On the oversized LCD screen above the commercial plaza, the beautiful and sexy Gina Moretti was being interviewed alone, capturing everyone's attention.

During her three years in the United States, Ivy had learned from exclusive entertainment magazines that there was a woman by Sebastian Hastings' side — Gina Moretti. She had been with him for three years. More precisely, Gina had come to his side right after Ivy left.

She, Gina Moretti, and Sebastian Hastings had all been classmates at University C.

Back in college, Gina Moretti was considered a universal beauty — sexy, gorgeous, and alluring — the dream girl of every man. But Ivy had never liked her; she always found Gina hypocritical and calculating, and she had never wanted much to do with her.

Yet back then, Gina had been very warm toward Ivy. For a while, they had become close friends who told each other everything.

Ivy's heart ached with confusion. How did Gina Moretti end up by Sebastian Hastings' side?

"Miss Gina Moretti, we heard that you are the capable and supportive partner behind Sebastian Hastings of the Hastings Group, quietly standing by his side for three years. Is that true?"

Gina Moretti smiled gracefully, neither confirming nor denying it. Her red lips parted slightly as she said, "Please give us some private space, thank you."

"Miss Gina Moretti, can you tell us what stage your relationship with Mr. Sebastian Hastings is at? There are rumors that you've already gotten married in the UK. Is that true?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not discussing personal feelings today. Please focus on the Hastings Group press conference," Gina said sweetly, her smile full of charm.

"Miss Gina Moretti, there are rumors that you plan to enter the entertainment industry. Is that true?"

Gina gave a generous smile. "It depends on fate. If the timing is right, anything is possible."

…

Ivy Winthrop let out a breath. A flash of sharpness appeared and vanished from her eyes. She looked away from the screen.

"Miss Ivy Winthrop, you need to be prepared. There are many suspicious points about this car accident. I'm afraid it will be difficult to reach a conclusion anytime soon," said Attorney Wang, his brows furrowed deeply, his expression somewhat grim.

Ivy Winthrop clenched her hands slightly, striving to remain calm. Her eyes showed no visible disturbance.

Her father, Richard Winthrop, the Minister of Finance of City A, had been a formidable figure until recently. But on the night before his campaign for the position of Finance Department Director, after attending a dinner banquet, his car was struck and overturned by a mysterious luxury vehicle that had suddenly charged out of nowhere.

The news media barely mentioned it. Few people even knew that the person involved in the accident was Richard Winthrop, the Finance Minister about to run for office.

Such a tragedy had been brushed aside as if it were nothing.

Clearly, someone had deliberately concealed the incident and blocked all media coverage.

This was absolutely a conspiracy.

The look in Ivy Winthrop's eyes was chilling. Her fingernails dug into her flesh, yet she felt no pain.

"Miss Ivy Winthrop, the dead cannot be brought back to life. Please accept my condolences," the lawyer said, his tone heavy and helpless. "Without solid evidence, the police cannot simply get involved."

Outside the window, the blue sky and white clouds remained beautiful, but Ivy felt as though she were suffering in hell on earth, her heart filled with endless bitterness.

Her father had been an upright official, and the family had no savings. He had been strict with her throughout her childhood, never indulging her with material luxuries. But spiritually, he had given her a lifelong treasure — her reserved and proper demeanor, her cheerful and lively character, and her calm, composed way of handling matters — all cultivated under his influence.

"Miss Ivy Winthrop, the police surveillance footage only shows a luxury car with no license plate," the lawyer said. He opened a file folder, took out a photograph, and handed it to her.

Ivy Winthrop took the photo with trembling hands. Her fingers were stiff from gripping it too tightly.

A layer of mist veiled her bright eyes.

She stared fixedly at the picture. Her father's car was completely overturned, blood pooling on the ground.

Tears silently streamed down her face, blurring her vision. She forced her eyes wide open, studying every detail of the photo, unwilling to overlook any suspicious clue.

Suddenly, a chill rose from the depths of her heart. Her gaze locked onto the luxury car — it looked so familiar.

Her face quickly turned pale.

Others might not recognize this car, but she remembered it. On her wedding day, it had appeared. Even without a license plate and with a different color, she still recognized it.

It was produced by Hastings Group's overseas automobile company — a Panica limited-edition luxury car. Only five existed in the world, and two of them were in City A. One of those was at the Hastings Group headquarters.

Could all of this be connected to Sebastian Hastings?

Ivy Winthrop stood up in shock.

Given Sebastian Hastings' hatred for her and his capabilities, what wouldn't he be capable of? Every detail of this situation suggested that only someone with immense power could have orchestrated such a conspiracy.

Clearly, Sebastian Hastings had all the means to do so.

Suddenly, Ivy Winthrop felt a bone-chilling cold. Her body curled up, and her face turned ashen.

"Miss Ivy Winthrop? What's wrong? Are you alright?" The lawyer asked worriedly, seeing her terrifyingly pale face and trembling body.

After a long while, Ivy Winthrop shook her head silently. The light in her eyes was no longer dull like ash. Instead, a fierce flame flickered in her constricted pupils. Her long eyelashes trembled slightly, concealing all her thoughts.

Sebastian Hastings, if you really did this, I will never let you go. I will make you pay blood for blood. A cold smile curved Ivy Winthrop's lips.

On the 88th floor of the magnificent International Hotel, in the conference center.

At the head of the table, Sebastian Hastings, dressed in an expensive suit, sat upright. His sharp, deep-set eyes were fixed intently on the images from the projector.

A luxurious SUV — noble in design, smooth in line, bold and elegant — appeared from every angle on the oversized projection screen.

All the top executives of Hastings Group sat in respectful silence, their gazes straight ahead, not a sound in the room.

When working, Sebastian Hastings shed any trace of restlessness. His expression was deep and composed, his thin lips pressed into an attractive, gentle curve. He looked every bit the gentleman.

But his harshness toward company executives bordered on cruelty, as the employees of Hastings Group knew all too well. They walked on eggshells, ever cautious. The slightest mistake could lead to demotion or a pay cut. In his eyes, there were only hardworking employees — no room for slackers or sycophants. He knew how to delegate based on merit, and everything was judged by results.

That was precisely why, under his leadership, the Hastings Group had grown increasingly powerful, reaching heights no one else could match.

"President, according to our investigation, this modern SUV model was recently designed by an automotive designer at Jingrui Company's U.S. headquarters. As soon as it launched, it became a hit in Europe and America. Orders have already exceeded a hundred million," reported his assistant, dressed in professional attire, clear and efficient.

"That's right, President. This car quickly became popular worldwide, firmly holding the top sales position and overshadowing several of our newly released models," the assistant added nervously.

Sebastian Hastings' brow furrowed slightly. His expression revealed nothing. His eagle-sharp eyes studied the car model on the screen, thoughts swirling beneath the surface.

Indeed, the moment he first saw this car, his eyes had lit up, and a faint smile of approval had appeared on his face. The design was truly remarkable.

He had been searching for a car model that truly satisfied him but never found one — until he saw this design. Now, everything became clear.

"What kind of person is this designer?" he asked calmly. After a moment's pause, his thin lips parted slightly.

"President, surprisingly, the designer is a woman — reportedly very young and beautiful," the assistant replied, unable to hide his astonishment and admiration. His young, handsome face was full of reverence.

A woman? Sebastian Hastings leaned forward slightly, inwardly surprised. His pale fingers tapped lightly on the conference table as his deep, intent gaze returned to the screen.