Chapter 9
The venue doors were opened by the staff, and Victor quickly wiped his tears and stood up.
After dealing with my matters, he waited for the company car, which never came.
His assistant repeatedly apologized, voice filled with guilt. Victor sighed, shaking his head.
“It’s fine. I’m alone. I’m not in a rush.”
The assistant’s eyes reddened.
“Kendra is gone, Sir. You must take care of yourself.”
From their exchange, I learned that my brother hadn’t eaten or slept since retrieving my body yesterday.
Seeing my once–proud brother now so haggard and frail made my heart ache with regret.
I thought he hated me, despised me, and meant every cruel word he ever said.
But now, I realize how wrong I was.
When the car finally arrived, Victor turned to his assistant.
“Tell everyone at the company to rest today. We have a tough battle ahead tomorrow.”
His voice was sharp, tinged with resolve. “That bastard wants to take the only thing my sister left me? Over my dead body. None of the Gabor family will walk away unscathed.”
By morning, news of the merger between the two companies flooded the headlines, and word of my death spread like wildfire.
A horde of reporters swarmed the company gates, desperate to interview Victor.
But Benedict wasn’t one to sit idly by. He struck back with a scathing article accusing Victor of using underhanded tactics to seize Gabor
Group.
of public opinion turning against Victor
<
The internet erupted, the tide of public opinion turning against Victor.
“Victor is heartless, using his sister’s death for PR
“Gabor Group was stolen through blackmail; it’s disgusting”
“I heard he hated her and abused her since childhood. What a monster”
I watched helplessly as the narrative spiraled out of control.
My intangible presence couldn’t intervene, leaving me pacing in frustration.
Victor had endured so much–losing our mother, shouldering our family’s burdens, and now facing this storm of vitriol because of me.
As the outcry reached a fever pitch, he announced a press conference for the afternoon.
Benedict, sensing trouble, stealthily slipped into the venue, unaware that Victor had already prepared for his arrival.
As Victor stepped onto the stage, the large screen behind him lit up, displaying photos of Benedict and Tylor together abroad. They were intimate and incriminating. Victor’s voice was cold as he detailed Benedict’s infidelities during his marriage.
Even the woman from the photos was invited onto the stage.
I couldn’t help but scoff at the absurdity of it all. Tylor was so naive and pitifully foolish.
A spotlight illuminated Benedict’s face in the audience, his expression twisted with shock. Then, Tylor emerged from backstage, stepping onto the platform.
“Benedict! You have to take responsibility! I’m carrying your child!”
Her words sent a shockwave through the room, reporters immediately swarming the stage, cameras flashing relentlessly.
Finally, Benedict would feel the suffocating pressure of public scrutiny. The same suffocating pressure I endured in that hospital bed, accused
and cornered over his sordid affair with Tylor.
Cornered by the cameras and questions, Benedict tore off his mask, revealing the venom in his eyes.
He lunged onto the stage, grabbing a microphone and hurling it at Tylor,
“It’s all your fault! You killed Kendra! You ruined my family and me!”
The room descended into chaos. Soon, the wail of sirens pierced the air as police and ambulances swarmed outside.
