Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife-Chapter 726 - 727

"I am."

Those two simple words sent a ripple of astonishment through the room.

Though everyone had suspected the girl was someone of importance, no one had imagined she would be the top dog! Rumors had it that the flagship skincare line of the Ar-Bl-Clear Group was her brainchild.

She was this young and already developing skincare products! Glancing at her again, her porcelain-like skin seemed almost too perfect—like a work of art in the sunlight, radiantly beautiful.

Was it her own products that gave her such flawless skin, or had she used the dirty money to splurge on some other brand’s exorbitant skincare line?

The curly-haired woman was stunned for a moment before she bit back, disbelief evident in her voice,

"Are you seriously the head honcho of the Ar-Bl-Clear Group?"

Catharina, the deputy, confirmed without missing a beat,

"The real deal."

The crowd was again taken aback, cameras flashing nonstop, but the girl’s face remained untroubled. From start to finish, her gaze held an undisturbed coolness, as though the setting hadn’t fazed her one bit.

With that kind of presence and poise, she had to be the one in charge.

"If you’re claiming to be the head of the Ar-Bl-Clear Group, then tell me, what are you going to do about my face looking like this? Is your company really that heartless—using our faces as tools to line your pockets? In front of all these reporters, today you owe us an explanation!"

Other disgruntled customers chimed in with their grievances.

"Your products are already priced through the roof, and to look better, I maxed out my credit cards—and now my face is ruined! At such a young age, how can you be so malicious? Why sell us defective products? Are you using our hard-earned cash to maintain that pretty face of yours?"

All the cameras excitedly captured the confrontation. This kind of explosive story could cause a sensation online in no time.

The Ar-Bl-Clear Group’s current predicament had already started fermenting on the web. And this face-off between consumers and the person in charge was only going to add fuel to the fire.

"One at a time," Rosemary said calmly, turning to the curly-haired woman.

"Which product of ours caused your reaction? Do you have proof?"

"It’s your whitening face mask! I bought it mid-December at one of your stores. Here’s the receipt," the woman retorted, handing over the slip of paper to Rosemary.

Taking a look, Rosemary quietly asked her deputy,

"How long do our store’s security cameras keep footage?"

"Six months."

"What about purchase records?"

"Indefinitely."

Upon hearing this, the curly-haired woman’s expression soured slightly.

"What are you getting at? Are you doubting that I’ve ever bought your product? Or that this receipt is a fake?"

"If you’re asking for an explanation, we need to thoroughly investigate every aspect," Rosemary instructed Catharina.

"Look into the December 15th records. Check if this receipt matches our sales data and if this lady visited our store."

Before she could finish, the curly-haired lady interrupted,

"I was busy that day; a friend went to buy it for me."

"Then check her friend as well."

"What are you implying? That the person isn’t really my friend, or that my friend is out to get me? You’re not the police—what right do you have to dig into my friend’s business? Isn’t this kind of harassment?"

"There’s no need to get worked up. Certain matters we will leave to the police to ensure everything is done by the book and above board."

"Are you trying to intimidate us with the police?"

The curly-haired woman’s words stirred the already agitated victims further. The crowd was in an uproar, their accusations flying like daggers at Rosemary.

"You know, when a big mess like this pops up, the least the Ar-Bl-Clear Group could do is apologize," one woman huffed, her voice dripping with disdain.

"We must’ve been silly to buy your products!"

"Not even a hint of sorry, not a flicker of remorse when you saw our faces looking like a bad pizza," another chimed in, arms folded across her chest.

"Looks to me like it’s not just your products that are rotten. Ar-Bl-Clear’s got some serious internal issues!"

"We want compensation!"

"A public apology—all over social media!"

"Ar-Bl-Clear Group, get out of Dawnstar!"

Through the chaos, Rosemary stood her ground, allowing their cries to wash over her. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed the hand of the woman with curly hair.

"What do you think you’re doing?" the curly-haired woman snapped back, yanking her hand away.

"Are you gonna hit me in front of all these cameras and reporters?"

"You claim you bought our skin-lightening cream on December 15th and only realized there was a problem after a month. But the inflammation on your face has been there for over six months."

"What are you implying?" the woman faltered, then quickly retorted,

"And you can tell how long just by looking? What are you, some kind of clairvoyant?"

"Anyway, we’re here for a payout from the Ar-Bl-Clear Group, and we want that press conference apology to consumers! Or else, I swear, I’ll end it right here!"

In a shocking move, the woman pulled a small knife from her clothing and pressed it to her own throat. freewebnøvel.coɱ

"My face is ruined and the doctors say it’s hopeless. I don’t even want to live anymore!"

Just then, a car approached, its arrival turning every head in the direction of the familiar license plate.

"Is that Romeo’s ride?"

"Romeo’s here?"

"What’s he doing at the Ar-Bl-Clear Group? Is it just a coincidence or—"

The reporters didn’t wait for an answer. They dashed toward him immediately.

The car came to a halt, and out stepped Romeo—tall and imposing—commanding the space around him with an aura of authority.

"Mr. McMillian, are you just passing by, or are you privy to some insider info?"

"Have you heard about today’s fiasco? Some consumers got facial burns from the Ar-Bl-Clear Group’s skincare. What’s your take on this?"

"The Ar-Bl-Clear Group is a well-known brand in Dawnstar. Do you think they would disregard consumer safety for profit?"

Romeo, surrounded by a barrage of questions from over twenty media outlets, spoke with confidence.

"I’ve been using the Ar-Bl-Clear Group’s men’s skincare and have had no issues."

The crowd was taken aback. No one expected the business tycoon to indulge in skincare—let alone come to Ar-Bl-Clear’s defense—especially since the two companies had never crossed paths before.

"I’ll stand by the Ar-Bl-Clear Group’s products with my personal guarantee. If there is an issue, I will personally compensate each affected individual a million dollars. In cash."

The flash from the cameras intensified, and a glimmer of hope flickered in the eyes of the disfigured.

"However," Romeo continued, his voice cutting through the noise,

"If anyone is found spreading false allegations, trying to tarnish the Ar-Bl-Clear Group’s reputation, and Ar-Bl-Clear chooses not to pursue, I will seek justice on their behalf. Anyone found guilty will owe a million dollars. Each."

The hopeful glint in the victims’ eyes dimmed, replaced by a wave of panic.

"I’ve already reported this to the police on behalf of the Ar-Bl-Clear Group. All your receipts, surveillance screenshots, and test results will serve as evidence in court."

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