Chapter 390
Chapter 390:
Skye looked at the photo and laughed. It was a dry, raspy sound.
“He’s not my lover,” she said, her voice rough. “He’s my creditor. He funded Oracle when you tried to bankrupt me p>
“A creditor who sends thousands of roses?” Liam challenged. “A creditor who stocks the ocean with lobster for you p>
Skye went silent. He knew.
Director Gordon burst into the room. He looked like he was about to have a stroke.
“Show’s paused!” he yelled. “Sponsors are pulling out. The network is freaking out about the cheating scandal. We’re dead in the water p>
“We need damage control,” Gordon paced.
Julian Vance walked in. He looked calm, dressed in a linen suit.
“Livestream,” Julian said.
“What?” Gordon stopped.
“Put Skye on live. Unfiltered. No editing,” Julian suggested, adjusting his glasses. “Let her clear the air. If she hides, she looks guilty. If she speaks, she controls the narrative p>
Liam stood. “She’s sick. She’s on antibiotics. No p>
“I’ll do it,” Skye said. She swung her legs out of bed. She swayed, but she stood.
She needed to control this. Before Beatrice won. Before Seraphina Miller—whoever she was in this timeline—made her move.
“Set it up,” Skye ordered.
Gordon ran to the beach to set up the signal booster. He saw the “fisherman” messing with the equipment box.
“Hey! Get away from there!” Gordon yelled.
The fisherman turned. The scarf slipped down.
Gordon froze. He recognized the face. Julian had told him, but seeing the man in the flesh was different. The scar. The cold, predatory eyes of a man who could buy and sell the entire network before breakfast. It was the voice from the phone.
“Mr. Thorne?” Gordon squeaked, his voice trembling with genuine fear.
Alistair didn’t panic. He stepped closer, towering over the director.
“This conversation never happened,” Alistair said calmly.
ո𝘰 рi𝗋𝗮𝖼𝘺 𝗋𝗲𝘢𝖽 o𝗻 b𝖾𝗅ո𝗈𝘃𝘦l𝘴.𝖼om
“You… you’re stocking the lobsters,” Gordon stammered.
“Fix the signal,” Alistair commanded. “Let her speak. If the feed cuts out, I buy this network and I fire you. Do you understand p>
Gordon nodded frantically. “Yes, sir p>
Back at the villa, Skye sat in front of a ring light. She wore no makeup. She looked pale, exhausted, and incredibly real.
The “Live” counter hit one million viewers in seconds.
At Kensington Manor, Beatrice and Seraphina watched on a large screen.
Skye looked directly into the lens.
“Let’s talk about the truth,” Skye said. Her voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a judge’s gavel.
She held up her bandaged hand.
“Starting with the Kensingtons—and the lies they tell to protect their dying empire p>
She took a breath.
“I didn’t cheat,” she said. “But I did survive. And if surviving makes me a villain… then I’ll be the best villain you’ve ever seen p>
The red “ON AIR” light faded to black.
The adrenaline that had sustained Skye through the broadcast evaporated instantly, leaving her hollowed out and trembling. She didn’t wait for the producers to congratulate her or for Liam to offer his hollow apologies. She walked off the set, legs shaking, and signaled to Julian.