As the bodyguards moved methodically through the crowd, their serious expressions unwavering, Virginia stood next to Lance, watching every move intently. Her eyes were alert, a clear vigilance in her gaze. A wave of fear and anxiety surged within her, inexplicably intensifying. She did not understand the sudden nausea that gripped her, making her feel like she might vomit from nervousness. Strange. Why was she so nervous? They were just conducting a search—what was there to be anxious about? Despite her attempts to compose herself, Virginia could not suppress the overwhelming sense of dread that seemed to have a grip on her body. Lance, standing close to her, noticed her discomfort. "What's wrong?" he asked. Virginia shook her head, trying to dismiss her feelings. "Nothing, just suddenly feeling a bit unwell." "Unwell?" Lance's brow furrowed deeper. "How could you suddenly feel unwell? Weren't you fine just a moment ago?" Again, Virginia shook her head, her confusion evident. "I don't know why either," she admitted, attempting to steady her voice. "It's nothing. I'll tough it out." Lance turned to look at her more closely, his gaze analytical. The pallor of her face was noticeable now, her complexion having lost its usual color. "Are you sure you're okay?" he pressed, his tone filled with genuine concern. Virginia's condition clearly seemed off, and as Lance glanced back at the ongoing search by the bodyguards, his expression grew more troubled. It was clear that the Daves were searching for someone specific, having sealed off all exits, making it impossible for Lance to escort Virginia out for some rest.If only she had heeded his advice to leave earlier, she might have avoided being trapped here now as the Daves secured the venue. "I'll help you over there to rest," Lance offered, placing his hand gently on Virginia's shoulder to guide her to a quieter spot to sit down. However, before they could move, the chilling touch of a gun barrel was pressed against Lance's forehead. He stopped abruptly. Despite the dire situation, Lance's expression remained composed, his demeanor calm as if the gun mere inches from his face posed no threat. "My wife ... " He began to say, but halfway through the word, he paused, abruptly remembering something important. Quickly correcting himself, he continued, "My companion is feeling unwell. I just want to help her rest over there, is that not allowed?" The bodyguard holding the gun did not flinch, his expression stern and the gun unwavering. Silence hung heavy between them, the bodyguard's unspoken refusal clear. Lance clenched his jaw, visibly annoyed by the standoff. Feeling the rising tension, Virginia tugged at the hem of Lance's suit. "Lance, I'm fine," she insisted softly. "Lance, please don't confront these people because of me. We're in Preigh, not Halton. If something happens, we won't be able to manage it," she pleaded. "And we can't compete with the Daves ... " Lance opened his mouth to argue, but the resolve in Virginia's eyes made him reconsider. Silently, he swallowed his objections. "Are you sure you're okay?" Lance asked. Virginia nodded firmly. "Don't worry, I can handle this discomfort." With Virginia's assurance, Lance knew he could not press further. He narrowed his eyes and shot a meaningful glance at the bodyguard blocking their path. The bodyguard, however, remained stoic and indifferent, his cold gaze shifting away as he lowered his gun and resumed the interrupted search. His demeanor was that of a relentless automaton. Virginia, battling the discomfort, silently fumed. Were all the Daves' bodyguards this callous? Denying her even a moment to sit seemed excessive. It was as if she posed a flight risk. Was all this disruption truly necessary? Internally, she grumbled about the overreaction, her mind swirling with questions about the identity of the person the Daves were so desperately seeking. What kind of individual could compel the Daves to take such extreme measures, even at the risk of alienating everyone from Kreshill at the event? Her eyes inadvertently drifted to Leon, the doctor in the white coat. The last time she drugged Steven, it was Addison who had summoned this very doctor to pull the old man back from death's brink. Since Addison was connected to this doctor ... Wait. Suddenly, a realization dawned on Virginia, and her expression shifted dramatically. Are they looking for Addison? This thought sent a shiver through her body, intensifying her existing fears. The source of her deep-seated anxiety became clear; she understood now why she felt so threatened. Lance, noticing Virginia's sudden pallor, leaned in with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again. At this moment, Virginia's appearance was far from okay. Her frailty was so pronounced that Lance felt even a mild gust of wind might knock her over. Virginia's ears seemed deaf to Lance's worried inquiries; her mind was overrun with panic. What was she to do?Were these individuals actually searching for Addison? If they discovered her role in confining Addison to the dressing room, the consequences could be severe. With the multitude of armed guards around, she felt as vulnerable as a target in a shooting range. The terror made Virginia shiver uncontrollably. Then, she felt an icy touch on her left shoulder, cold and serpentine. Could it be the barrel of a gun? Had her actions been uncovered so swiftly? The chilling, merciless gaze of the bodyguard who had earlier aimed a gun at Lance haunted her, his expression devilish. Virginia's face contorted with fear, her heart pounding fiercely. She was too petrified to even glance over her shoulder to confirm her fears. "I was wrong ... " Her body tensed as she continued in a hushed tone, "I was wrong. I really was wrong ... " Driven by her fear, Virginia repeated her admission, each iteration quieter than the last, terrified that any delay in confessing her wrongdoing might result in a fatal shot. After a few tense seconds, when nothing Virginia feared materialized, and there was no interrogation, she found herself bewildered. "Ms. Dolton, what's wrong?" A soft female voice interrupted her spiral of fear. Turning her head, Virginia saw it was Georgina who had placed her hand on her shoulder, her expression filled with concern. "Ms. Hamilton?" Virginia exclaimed, her surprise evident. Not a bodyguard? And no gun? A wave of relief washed over Virginia. "What's wrong? Why do you look so pale?" Georgina asked, her eyes brimming with worry. Virginia managed to calm the residual fear in her heart and shook her head. "It's nothing, just feeling a bit sick." "Sick? Why are you suddenly feeling that way?" Georgina reached out to touch Virginia's forehead, checking for a fever. However, Virginia quickly pulled away, and then leaned closer to whisper in Georgina's ear. "Ms. Hamilton, do you know who they are looking for?" Georgina looked surprised by the question. "I have no idea. "But it doesn't matter to us whoever they are looking for. Why do you ask such a thing?" Frowning deeply, Virginia pressed, "You really don't know?" Seeing Virginia's grave expression, Georgina's confusion deepened. "I really don't know," she reiterated. Observing Virginia's expression, one might think she knew exactly who the Daves' bodyguards were searching for. However, she genuinely had no idea. Seeing Georgina's puzzled look, Virginia let out a sigh. She then leaned forward, her actions secretive and tense, frequently glancing behind her as if afraid of being caught speaking. "They're searching for Addison!" Virginia confided in a whisper close to Georgina's ear. Upon hearing this, Georgina's eyes narrowed sharply. Searching for Addison?