?<strong>Chapter 876:</strong>


    Dulce struggled to untangle her emotions. She preferred nning her life meticulously, and once her path was clear, trivial concerns faded away.


    She was aware of her youth, yet she saw life as a vast expanse of opportunities—filled with love, family, friendships, romance, career ambitions, and the quest for recognition.


    Resolving to put thoughts of Michael aside, Dulce chose to focus on her immediate tasks, trusting the rest to destiny.


    The trial involving Crowell and Cara soonmenced. As a witness in the courtroom, Dulce noticed Fiona weeping and spotted Michael among the spectators. Their eyes met briefly in the formal courtroom setting, but the environment stifled any chance of conversation.


    The initial verdict was harsh: Crowell and Cara were condemned to death. They sought an appeal, but the judge remained unmoved.


    Outside, in the parking lot, Michael caught up with her. “Thank you for everything you’ve done during this ordeal.”


    “It was nothing. If anything, I owe you for your protection throughout.” Despite Fiona’s presence, Dulce felt an unexpected serenity wash over her. She questioned herself briefly—she had no reason for guilt.


    “Do you have a moment? I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight,” Michael proposed, with Fiona visibly tense beside him.


    “No, thank you.” Dulce wasn’t avoiding Michael; she was merely exhausted by the turmoil he stirred up. Fiona’s watchful eyes, Jett’s rage, her own doubts—all these negative feelings were overwhelming. Why invite more distress?


    “I’ve got ns tonight, so I’ll be heading out,” she stated smoothly. With a casual flick of her car keys, Dulce strode away, the picture of poise.


    “Michael, we should leave too,” Fiona suggested.


    Michael shifted his gaze. “The driver will take you. I’ve got anothermitment and won’t be able to apany you.” This was Fiona’s greatest fear. If Michael found sce in another’s arms, he would never focus on her again.


    As Dulce’s Ferrari zipped by, Fiona stiffened, her body quivering with suppressed fury.


    That night, Dulce caught up with Fannie at the Flex Club.


    “Isn’t it a shock Bobby let you out by yourself?” Dulce joked.


    “Just drop it.” Fannie grabbed a beer. “He’s too attached. I had to sneak out. It’s like he’s glued to me—it’s maddening.”


    “Oh, really now?” Dulce chuckled. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t your little crush blossom into something real? You’ve been on cloud nine.”


    Fannie gave a yful scoff, propping her chin in her hand as she gazed at Dulce. “And what about you? How are things with Michael these days?”


    “You still have the energy to worry about my love life?” Dulce scanned the room, then leaned in to whisper to Fannie. “Is it true about Mayer and Judie? Are they really an item, or is it just for the cameras?”


    Fannie bristled at the topic. The n was for Mayer and Judie to go public with their rtionship soon, yet the initial reaction had been less than favorable, with a vocal faction of fans expressing their displeasure. Judie had even shut offments on her Twitter due to a barrage of negativity. Mayer was eager to defend her, but after a moment’s thought, Fannie advised restraint.


    “It’s better to let the fans air out their grievances before unveiling the rtionship officially. Otherwise, the uproar could break the inte.”


    “It started as just a stunt, but they genuinely connected and made it real,” Fannie exined.


    “Seriously?” Dulce gasped, her interest piqued. Though not typically engrossed in celebrity gossip, she couldn’t help but respect Mayer, known for his diligence and ambition.


    .


    .


    .