Love Conspiracy: The Pretentious Prince Is a Trickster

"I suspect my husband wants to... murder me." Charlotte Cooper spoke thus.

The warm air in the room was blowing strongly, making the atmosphere stuffy. Vanessa Foster, holding a glass of red wine with a blush on her face, looked at the woman on the sofa and whispered, "Genna, maybe you are a bit drunk. Do you want to go home and rest first?"

Apparently, she had filtered her words into mere drunken babbling.

"Maybe I really am drunk." Charlotte Cooper sprawled loosely on the sofa, holding half a cigarette in her hand. The smoke from the cigarette flowed around half of her face. With her eyes downcast, her slender, curled lashes seemed like two rows of tiny fans shielding her deep eye sockets. Her rosy lips slightly raised, carrying a hint of mockery.

"Yes, I think you have been working too hard on your acting lately. Why don't you go home and have a good rest for a few days? Your health is always the most important thing," Vanessa Foster said worriedly.

Charlotte Cooper was the biggest star actress under her management. Although her acting skills were average, her stunningly beautiful face, combined with the continuous resources behind her, allowed her to claim the position of a top-tier actress from the start. Naturally, this was all thanks to her powerful background.

Now she claimed that her background was trying to kill her, which sounded too absurd even for drunken babble.

Charlotte Cooper smiled and did not respond.

As the dinner party drew to a close, the investors, intoxicated by liquor, started to be more daring. Finding it rather suffocating, Charlotte Cooper left the dinner party early.

The night was chilly, and the air was filled with a hint of moist fog. Wearing high heels, Charlotte Cooper was exhaling smoke by the side of the road. As she smoked half of her cigarette, a luxurious Rolls-Royce approached and stopped in front of her. The car window lowered, revealing a greasy face that did not match the luxury vehicle at all.

"Miss Actress, it's so late. Let me give you a ride. I have a villa nearby." CEO Li Turner of Fenton Group had also left the dinner party at some point, his murky eyes scanning the young woman's enticing figure, revealing his lustful intentions as he clearly set his sights on her.

Half-closed eyes and red lips slowly exhaled smoke, but didn't even bother to lift an eyelid.

The atmosphere was quite awkward.

"Why don't you say anything? Or are you unwilling to give me Li a chance? Don't worry, as long as you perform well tonight, the villa is yours tomorrow." Li Turner's mouth twitched, obviously displeased with losing face.

"Give me a ride?" Charlotte Cooper sneered, glanced at the greasy face, and said, "And who do you think you are?"

Li Turner of Fenton hesitated for a moment. He had always been successful with his wealth and romantic pursuits, but tonight he encountered a formidable opponent. He angrily said, "And what are you? In the end, you're just an actress, depending on our investments to make a living. Yet you're putting on airs with me, playing the saint after being a slut. I demand that you spend the night with me! I don't believe it!"

These strong and vulgar words were nauseating, as if he were Emperor Howard, flipping cards at will.

"It's so noisy." Charlotte Cooper rubbed her aching forehead. Her glossy hair scattered across her white shoulders. Raising her eyes, she let her gaze rest on the man's greasy face for a moment, neither smiling nor frowning as her red lips parted softly: "This isn't your Fenton Group. You should be more careful with what you say, some people you can't afford to offend."

People he couldn't afford to offend?

"By you? An actress?" CEO Li Turner sneered, obviously not taking a woman's threat seriously.

"Because she's the woman of Henry Russell." A deep, cold, and slightly firm voice echoed.

The smile on CEO Li Turner's face instantly froze.

He turned his face and saw a low-key black Mercedes parked not far away. Inside the car was a remarkably handsome face.

That face often appeared in the finance and wealth sections of various magazines.

With just one glance, he recognized the man as the sole heir of the Russell financial conglomerate, Henry Russell.

It was common knowledge that the Russell Group was a prominent financial consortium in Asia. With businesses ranging from Fenton Pharmaceuticals to real estate and technology companies, they covered various industries, such as birth, aging, sickness, and death. They were undoubtedly a leading business empire.

Compared to him, the Fuyuan Group was not even worth a bone fragment.

"Mr. Russell…" CEO Li Turner's face turned rigid, as if he had been startled. He glanced at Charlotte Cooper with a complex gaze, cautiously probing, "What's the relationship between Miss Cooper and Mr. Russell?"

Charlotte laughed and said, "Why don't you try to take me away right in front of him and see what our relationship is?"

CEO Li Turner's pupils shivered, anxiously brushing a glance at Charlotte like a frightened partridge. He stammered, "Miss Cooper, you must be joking. I had too much to drink tonight and might have offended you. I hope you won't take it to heart."

He had miscalculated. This woman, who could have won all the best actress awards with her acting skills, was not someone he could mess with.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows and ignored him.

She watched the black Mercedes slowly driving towards her in the darkness, her lips slightly curved, carrying a touch of coldness.

Seeing this, CEO Li Turner didn't even dare to apologize to the man in person, and instead quickly retreated in his luxury car.

The Mercedes slowly came to a stop in front of her, revealing the man's cold, hard silhouette in the night.

Under his thick flying eyebrows were a pair of grayish-brown eyes, as if veiled by a layer of frost. The fog in his eyes was a pale gray, his brow bones deep and his skin cold and white. The man exuded a gloomy, cold and dangerous aura.

He raised his eyes, his thick black eyelashes drooping down, half-covering the deep coldness in his eyes.

"Charlotte, when did you learn to smoke?"

When?

Charlotte, holding a half-smoked cigarette, sneered coldly and replied sarcastically, "Mr. Russell, you actually care about this?"

Not a word was exchanged during the drive home. By the time they arrived, it was already 3 a.m., long past Henry Russell's bedtime. Charlotte put on her slippers, leaned lazily on the sofa playing with her phone, and casually said, "Thank you, Mr. Russell, for taking time out of your busy schedule to pick me up. I, your doting wife, am truly overwhelmed. It's late, so you should get some rest."

They had been married for three years and lived in separate rooms for the same period. Although they lived under the same roof, they were like strangers. Charlotte had long grown accustomed to his innate coldness and indifference.

For a while, there was no movement.

Charlotte raised her eyelashes and met a pair of grayish eyes.

"Wash your face, brush your teeth, get in bed, and sleep." Henry Russell looked at her, his face cold, lips thin and pale.

Was he really ordering her to go to bed?

When had he ever cared about her daily life in the past three years? And when had he ever picked her up?

This man was definitely not the real Henry Russell.

Charlotte's gaze lingered on that handsome face for a moment, then she suddenly laughed and asked, "Mr. Russell, are you planning to kill me?"

It is said that men only treat women exceptionally well when they feel guilty or have ulterior motives, either due to guilt or to numb the other party.

Henry Russell had been acting strangely since five days ago. There must be something wrong with this situation, but she couldn't find a clue.

As a surgeon, one who excelled in the most dangerous of the top ten dangerous professions, Henry Russell's scalpel was more than capable of accurately identifying her major arteries.