Tristan Lowell stared at her back, his breathing becoming heavy.
He clenched his fists, veins popping on his temples.
His gaze slid down from Cora Lowell's shoulders to her heels.
But at that moment, the music suddenly changed, the rhythm abruptly intense.
She hadn't changed the piece.
Everyone was stunned, even the air seemed to freeze for a moment.
Emotions reached a peak then suddenly halted.
After the last accent note fell, she stopped her movement, the bow suspended in mid-air.
Cora Lowell stood up.
"The remaining part, I'd like to play for Mr. Croft alone."
Then she turned and walked towards the door.
Hayden Croft felt a surge of heat in his heart, instinctively following her.
His steps quickened, his breathing slightly heavier.
The corridor lights were somewhat dim, casting over her slender figure ahead.
The two of them left.
Cora Lowell walked ahead, her pace neither fast nor slow.
She neither looked back nor spoke.
Her fingers tightly clenched the bag strap, knuckles slightly pale.
Hayden Croft followed a few steps behind.
As they rounded the staircase corner, Lana Lowell's pace hesitated slightly.
The two moved silently through the side door of the hall.
Into the night's embrace of the courtyard.
Lana Lowell just thought about sneaking away but was pinned to the spot by a cold shout.
Her left foot had just half-stepped forward, her knee still bent.
Her spine instantly tightened, her heart racing, a buzzing in her ears.
She instinctively shrank her shoulders, fingers unconsciously touching her earlobe.
"Was it you who deliberately made her late?"
Tristan Lowell's voice was not loud.
He sat in the main seat, hands on the armrests, leaning forward.
A stick of unlit incense on the table still smoked slightly.
Tristan Lowell's face darkened, the air thick with oppressive anger.
He swept a teacup off the ground with one palm, shards splattering before Lana Lowell's toes.
He didn't look at those pieces, nor did he speak again, just oppressed her with his gaze.
The other servants had already withdrawn.
Leaving only the father and daughter.
Lana Lowell widened her eyes.
"It really wasn't me!"
"When I went down, she was already in the car, I even asked her if she needed help with her bag, she said no…"
She had timed it perfectly when she went down...
At that time, she had breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the matter had passed.
Before she could finish, she suddenly realized she had been deceived by Cora Lowell!
She believed it, which is why she acted early, only to end up as a scapegoat.
Tristan Lowell said nothing, pointing a finger at the space before him.
"Kneel down before me!"
His eyes were like knives, unwavering.
Lana Lowell bit her lower lip, lips turning pale.
Her skirt brushed the ground, making a soft friction sound.
After speaking, he pulled a rose from the vase.
The stem was long, the tip still had a few withered leaves.
The petals were deep red, appearing somewhat dark under the lighting.
He gripped it tightly.
Lana Lowell trembled all over.
She had just raised her head, noticing his movement, her face turned ashen.
But she dared not move, her father's orders more frightening than the pain.
Tristan Lowell gripped the rose stem and whipped it like a lash.
The thorns scraped over her arm, leaving several red marks.
Lana Lowell bit her lip hard, letting out a terse gasp.
The thorns hadn't been trimmed, lashing directly onto her bare arm.
The Maybach sped along the highway.
Inside, Landon Lockwood was staring down at his laptop, typing rapidly.
Encrypted communications and map coordinates continuously refreshed on the screen.
His brows furrowed, fingers sliding back and forth on the touchpad, pulling up set after set of data.
Though the air conditioning was set low, sweat still glistened on his forehead.
Ethan Nash wore earphones, ears pressed to the monitoring equipment, motionless.
Intermittent static came through the headphones.
Suddenly, he jerked his head, an odd expression on his face, lightly coughing.
He removed one earphone, hesitated briefly, then turned to Landon Lockwood.
"Boss, we've already encountered Hayden Croft, heard they're pretty chummy, now they're alone together..."
After speaking, he quickly put the earphone back on, pretending to continue monitoring.
Landon Lockwood's temper flared instantly: "She dares?!"
He snapped the laptop shut.
Face suddenly somber, fingers digging into his palm forcefully.
Leaving the Lowell Family last night, he had confidently promised to keep an eye on her.
But now, receiving news about the "plan."
The plan, frankly, was to eliminate the mole within the Lockwood Family.
The entire operation was secretly arranged by the Lockwood Family's upper echelon.
All participants were rigorously vetted, ensuring information wouldn't leak out again.
The code name for the operation is "Fox Shadow," aimed at tracking through technology and intelligence screening to identify the internal leak.
Once the mole's identity is confirmed, immediate isolation and control measures will be taken to prevent further loss.
The Lockwood Family specializes in high-intelligent AI technology, favored from above, secretly developing a batch of bionic robots.
Once deployed, they'll play a key role in special operations.
All core data is stored on isolated servers, physically separated networks to prevent external invasions.
Yet, no one expected the same program to leak out.
Suspecting a security breach, they initiated a sweep to trace the source.
The tech department found that the leaked version highly matched the internally developed version.
Data packet encryption characteristics matched the Lockwood Family's unique signature algorithm.
This indicated the leak point was within the project team.
The investigation team locked onto three suspicious nodes, undergoing a step-by-step examination.
Last night's clues pointed directly to another AI giant—the Croft Family.
Communication records showed, during a late-night data transmission, the IP endpoint jumped to a Croft Family's testing center.
Despite multiple disguises along the path, the timing matched perfectly with the missing program modules.
Additionally, the recent abrupt acceleration of the Croft Family's similar product development was abnormal.
All signs indicate they've likely obtained the core technology.
Landon Lockwood sneered twice.
He sat in the central control room, the latest intelligence summary scrolling on the screen before him.
Any traitor, no matter their identity, must pay the price.
"Croft Family? Doomsday is arriving for you."
Ethan Nash awkwardly chuckled.
"Weren't you familiar with Hayden Croft before? Both of you fell for the same woman, doesn't that show your eyesight is particularly good?"
He initially thought of easing the atmosphere, but upon uttering the words realized he'd misspoken.
Landon Lockwood most detests anyone mentioning that past.
Especially when it involves Cora Lowell's name.
There are not many enterprises handling high-intelligent AI.
Nationwide, there are less than five companies with independent neural network architecture development capabilities.
Among them, those with military-grade system integration qualifications are only Lockwood Family and Croft Family.
They are leaders in policy support, talent reserve, and capital investment.
Every tender is almost always their ultimate bid.
For the past three years, they've jointly undertaken seven national key AI projects.
Although competitors, they maintain surface-level cooperation publicly.
Privately, incidents of technology theft and poaching core teams are common.
This contest has long surpassed the commercial realm, evolving into a full-scale family confrontation.
Project bidding always ends up between the two of them.
The vaguer the scoring criteria, the fiercer the competition.