Monica Alston returned to the room upstairs.
She rested a bit before getting up, and found a new email in her inbox.
Sitting at the desk, her well-maintained fingers without a single callus lightly picked up the mouse and opened the email to view.
Her gaze fell on the computer screen.
The file detailed Lydia Janis's hardships over the years, with particularly thorough investigations.
"Heh..."
"Lydia Janis, oh Lydia Janis, how does it feel to fall from grace?"
Upon seeing these materials, Monica Alston curled her lips in a sneer, her face full of disdain, an attitude of scorn coming from someone in a high position.
Her finger moved the mouse to scroll down, and when she saw more information and photos, the smile on her lips froze solid.
"!!!"
Monica Alston's pupils dilated, she stared incredulously at the screen, so angry that you could clearly hear her breathing rapidly.
"Who is this? Lydia Janis's son?!"
