Chapter 988
The tide of public opinion, which had been swaying toward Skye after the shareholder meeting, was churning. The internet didn’t care about DNA tests or burnt dolls. A significant faction — conspiracy theorists, anti-corporate activists, and bots — cared about tears. They cared about the narrative of the cruel, powerful CEO crushing the fragile orphan.
“She adapts fast,” Skye said, her voice dropping to a temperature that could freeze water. “Yesterday she was a con artist caught red-handed. Today she’s the grieving niece. Who wrote this script for her?”
“It’s not just a script,” Parker said, typing furiously on his phone. “I tried to trace the upload source to kill the video. I can’t. The server hosting it is shielded by military-grade encryption — the kind that bounces through satellites in three different hemispheres. This wasn’t random. She is under state-level protection now. Or something even higher.”
“The Administrator,” Skye whispered. She touched the pocket of her blazer, feeling the cold metal of the Ouroboros key she had cut from the doll. “It has to be. Arthur was just a middleman. Now that he’s gone, the Mastermind is stepping out of the shadows. He’s using Gemma as a human shield to keep me busy while he moves his pieces.”
𝗗𝗶𝘀𝘤𝘰v𝘦𝗿 ո𝘦w 𝘴𝘁𝗼𝘳i𝘦𝗌 𝘰𝘯 𝗴а𝗅𝗻o𝘃𝘦𝗹𝗌.с𝗼𝘮
Alistair Thorne walked in. He didn’t look at the tablet. He looked at Skye. His suit was immaculate, but a tension in his jaw betrayed his otherwise calm facade.
“PR can’t contain this,” Alistair said. “The narrative is self-sustaining. The news vans are already circling the building. They’re calling it ‘The Cain and Abel of Sea City.’”
“Let them circle,” Skye said. “I’m not hiding.”
“There’s more,” Alistair said. “Liam is downstairs.”
Skye’s head snapped up. “What?”
“He tried to enter the building. The press swarmed him. They’ve pinned him against his car.”
Skye grabbed the remote and turned on the wall monitor. The news feed showed the front entrance of Oracle Tower — a chaotic sea of umbrellas and flashing cameras. In the center of the vortex stood Liam Kensington. He looked haggard, his tie loose, his coat unbuttoned, physically pushing microphones away from his face.
“Mr. Kensington!” a reporter shouted, thrusting a recorder at him. “Your ex-wife is accused of driving her uncle to suicide and persecuting her newfound sister. Do you stand by her actions?”
Liam’s face was a mask of dark fury. He shoved a camera lens aside. “Skye Sterling is the only victim here. Arthur was a criminal. And that girl is a fraud.”
“So you condone the bullying of a traumatized young woman?” another reporter screamed.
Liam stopped. He looked directly into the camera. For a moment, his eyes met Skye’s through the screen.
“I condone the truth,” Liam growled. “No comment.”
He forced his way through the crowd, his security detail struggling to hold the mob back.
“He’s making it worse,” Parker groaned. “By refusing to denounce you, the media is painting him as your accomplice. ‘The Toxic Power Couple Reignites.’”
Skye turned off the screen. “He’s trying to protect me.”
“He’s failing,” Alistair said bluntly. “He’s a lightning rod. And right now, the storm is centered on you.”
Skye’s phone buzzed. A text from Julian.
.