Chapter 16 My Fiancée

Nicole's investigation stirred a frenzy online for three days. The Vanderbilt Group, desperate to quell the uproar, came to Lucas for help.

Seating himself behind his desk, he listened to their plea. Smiling, he said, "Your story is touching, but I'm sorry to say, my fiancée has the last word."

My father, with his elite wife in tow, turned and saw me. Their expressions shifted instantly.

I flashed them a slight grin. "You both might want to get ready, because soon, you'll end up just like her."

Lucas held a press conference, clarifying his relationship with Nicole.

Facing the interrogation, his smile bore a hint of mockery: "Fiancée? I never acknowledged her as such.

I was talking about the one who stayed and cared for me back then."

Someone asked, "But didn’t she only look after you because Nicole paid her?"

Lucas's lips retained their smile, but his gaze cooled inch by inch.

"Journalist, I advise you to choose your words carefully."

"There are so many wealthy people in the world; why would she take money to care only for me? It's because she loved me."

The room felt silent.

I felt silent too.

After the press conference, I released the recordings of the days she came to find me.

"A blind man, an outcast from a wealthy family—who wants to care for him?"

"She only looked after me for a few days. Dead is dead, why should I pay her?"

"Do you also want to keep me around, to live a miserly life like yours, too poor to afford a proper burial when I’m dead?"

The public was in an uproar.

"No way, I always thought she had this whole elegant and poised movie starlet vibe going on," someone said incredulously.

“Well, she and Madeline Thompson are biological half-sisters; she took the initiative to find a stand-in to replace herself,” came the reply.

"Dripping in over a million dollars' worth of clothes and jewels, yet she wouldn't cough up a dime for her own mother's grave site. That's just gross."

I rode the wave of the dramatic outcry and started a live stream.

In front of millions, I unveiled the truth that had been buried for two decades.

"Madison Vanderbilt of the Vanderbilt Group had her eyes on my dad," I confessed.

"They wouldn't clear the air and just got divorced instead. They conspired together to set a trap for my mom, forcing her to carry a scandalous reputation and live in disgrace for the rest of her life."

Behind me stood a shifty-looking man with a buzz cut.

During my graduate studies and internship, I had scoured far and wide, exerting great effort.

It was from a fellow senior in the industry that I finally tracked down this man.

He had a penchant for petty theft and had served time on more than one occasion.

The man confessed, "That incident back then, Madison Vanderbilt directed me to do it. Miss Thompson was indeed innocent. She was lured by her own daughter to a Vanderbilt Group cocktail party, got drunk, and I escorted her to a room and stuffed a wad of cash beneath her pillow."

Ms. Vanderbilt had someone call the police in advance.

Before my mother, deliberately intoxicated, could sober up, the door was busted open by the cops.

"Even now, setting up a woman and tarnishing her name with scandal is all too easy. Let alone back in those days."

"I didn't just study journalism and pursue a career in it for this case alone. I will dedicate the rest of my life to vindicating all the wronged girls, setting the record straight for every one of them."