Chapter 12

Perhaps it was Wilfred's gaze that was too intense, it made Sarah instantly feel this distinct stare. She put down her wine glass and unabashedly looked back. Wilfred's eyes narrowed with disdain as Sarah's arrogant behavior became apparent. In his perception, her misuse of authority amounted to bullying. His positive opinion of Sarah's singing voice, which he had admired just the day before, now plummeted precipitously. Not only did he find her physically unattractive, but he now also believed she harbored malicious motives. Her actions had swiftly erased any goodwill he had previously felt towards her. Distaste surfaced in Wilfred’s eyes as he turned away, a palpable tension surrounding him as if he had come into contact with something filthy. This type of look again. Sarah let out an almost inaudible chuckle. This was the same look he gave to the person in question at the previous press conference, wasn't it? How interesting indeed. This type of individual who looks down on everyone as if they were garbage, has they ever considered that they could also be trash? She released her grip, nudging Vivian back. Vivian almost fell over, scared enough to run off, orange juice dribbling down her hair. As she took off, she shot Sarah a nasty look. "You Whore! I'll get my revenge on you sooner or later!" Sarah, however, could not be bothered to engage her. She turned her attention away, asking the bartender for another glass of orange juice. By then, Wilfred and his entourage had also gone upstairs. As Sarah was wondering which private room they had booked, her phone received a signal from the alarm she had thrown at the entrance of private room 'A' the night before! Connecting this with the group that just went upstairs, a guess crossed Sarah's mind. It couldn't be that coincidental, could it? She hurriedly unlocked her phone, the screen displayed a somewhat fuzzy image, yet it was clear enough to see a handful of business elites in suits and shoes. The man in the front was dressed in a gray suit, exactly what Wilfred was wearing just a moment ago! As if to confirm this guess, he sat in the central position and turned around—it was indeed Wilfred's face! Could it be him? Sarah's eyes suddenly sparkled with an unusual light. "Miss Peach, it's time for your performance. If you don’t go upstairs, the manager will get angry," the bartender reminded her after placing a freshly squeezed orange juice by her side. "Okay." Sarah stood up, emptied the glass of orange juice, and made her way to the stage. Once she picked up the bass guitar and walked to the microphone, a resounding cheer erupted throughout the bar. "Ooh, we've been waiting for you!" "Give us a folk song!" The audience below the stage was remarkably enthusiastic. If anyone didn't know better, they might have thought it was Sarah's concert. Sarah casually greeted the audience beneath the stage, then raised her hand and strummed the strings quite casually. Yet even this casual stroke was like a heavenly melody, instantly capturing everyone's ears. Taking advantage of the audience's momentary stupor, Sarah slightly shook her head, allowing her hair to fall just right, covering the small earpiece in her ear. The earpiece was connected to a pinhole camera in the room, equipped with Bluetooth, enabling Sarah to hear the movements upstairs at any moment. "What time is it?" The voice of Wilfrd, filled with impatience, came from the earpiece. "It's seven o'clock, Mr. Smith," the assistant responded somewhat flusteredly, "They said they are on the way and will be here shortly." Wilfred paused for two seconds, then suddenly asked, "Are the documents ready?" "Don't worry, Mr. Smith." Hearing the sound of a briefcase being opened, Sarah immediately lowered her gaze to her cell phone placed underneath the microphone. The surveillance did capture Wilfred's assistant taking a file out of the briefcase and placing it on the table. It seemed this was her target for tonight. Just as Wilfred wanted to reach out for it, Sarah brought her lips close to the microphone and chuckled softly. This chuckle was clear and filled with mirth. It was so crisp and pleasant that it was indescribable. Through the excellent-quality microphone, it was as if she was giggling right next to everyone's ears. Even Wilfred upstairs seemed a bit taken aback when he heard this giggle. He stopped and looked down towards the lower floors. At this moment, Sarah finally spoke up. "Let me take another look at you, from south to north..." As her voice echoed, the entire room fell silent, attentively listening to Sarah's song. Some even closed their eyes to better immerse themselves in the experience. Pete, who was sipping his drink down below, felt a sudden pang in his heart at her voice. The next second, he couldn't help but turn his gaze towards the woman on stage. "She really can do it..." Halfway through the song, he heard a voice in his earpiece: "Mr, Smith, they've arrived." Sarah opened her eyes to look towards the entrance and saw the quid doors swing open as a group of men in suits stepped in. The man leading the group had a stern face, radiating an intimidating aura. The bodyguards following him maintained their cold, silent demeanors. Using the act of adjusting the microphone as a cover, Sarah swiped at her phone, starting a timer for the bathroom. Meanwhile, a woman with smoky eye makeup emerged from a private room and entered the crowded bathroom, which was only being utilized on the outer stalls. The woman was getting restless, she moved further inside until she spotted a stall with a broken latch which caused the door to automatically open. She quickly stepped inside, and after finishing her business, she reached over to flush the toilet. Strangely enough, the water pump button seemed unusually hard to press today. Despite this, the water still came out normally. The woman didn't think much about it and left after she finished using it. Downstairs, Sarah did some time calculation and found out that the bar, which should have already suffered a power outage, was still brightly lit. At that moment, the suited men who had just walked in were headed upstairs. Her jaw started to tighten gradually. Could it have been a miscalculation on her part? Just as this question emerged in her mind, a "click" sound echoed and the lobby went dark! The bar had lost its power! As all power sources abruptly ceased, enveloping the venue in pitch-black darkness, Sarah's song reached its final notes. Strumming the last chord, she deftly clutched the stair railings adjacent to the stage, seamlessly executing a mid-air flip before descending the stairs with effortless grace in the obscurity. Her seamless maneuvering in the dark was attributed to a clever modification she had made to her sunglasses, transforming them into night vision goggles. This adaptation allowed her to navigate the dimly lit environment with precision and agility, giving her a distinct advantage in the chaotic situation. To escalate the pandemonium, she strategically pushed multiple individuals, adding to the confusion and disarray within the now tumultuous setting. "Fuck, who's taking advantage of the chaos to touch me? How shameless!" "Ah! There's a pervert!" "Stop pushing me, what if I fall?" Very quickly, the situation had escalated beyond control. At the staircase of the second floor, the man who had just entered was already surrounded by a group of bodyguards. Due to the darkness, none of them dared to make a move. Downstairs, Manager Mike had already sent someone to maintain order, but the scene had turned into a mess, and pacifying the customers was not as easy as it seemed. Everything was happening according to the plan. Sarah walked past a few men in suits and arrived at the entrance of booth A. A waiter stood at the entrance, holding wine, also immobilized due to the fear of the dark. Just as he was about to fumble his way to the staircase to ask Manager Mike about the situation downstairs, two hands quietly appeared behind him, pushing him forcefully into the room! "Crash!" "Thump!" The wine in his hands fell correspondingly. In the booth, only Wilfred, his assistant, and two security guards were present - they immediately went on alert, and all eyes turned toward the source of the noise. The beam of a flashlight had already shone down, pointing directly at the waiter. The waiter hurriedly apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." "What's going on!" "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, someone just bumped into me." "Bumped into you?!" Everyone looked behind the waiter, but there was no one there. In that fleeting instant, a subtle shift occurred on Wilfred's pristine glass table, where important documents lay. The delicate papers had been imperceptibly displaced, as if by an unseen force. The entire sequence unfolded in a breathtaking blur, lasting no more than three rapid heartbeats. So swift and deft was the action that it defied the naked eye, leaving no trace of its occurrence. Upon closer inspection, it became evident that the documents had been expertly exchanged, their positions altered with surgical precision. The original papers had vanished, replaced by near-identical duplicates that blended seamlessly into the scene, concealing the clandestine exchange.