He Stole My Art and My Mother,So I Stole His Empire

He pointed at the giant screen behind me, his laugh equal parts disgusting and brazen.

‘What's wrong? Thought you could do your dirty little deeds and nobody'd ever find out?! Well, now the whole world knows!’

I turned to look where he was pointing.

On the LED screen, three stories tall, my ‘intimate photos’ with the judge were scrolling in a loop.

Compared to the ones shown at the awards gala,

these were far more explicit.

The tattoo on my lower back. My flushed face.

These weren't doctored. These were real photos from my private moments with Maxwell……

It hit me like a bolt of lightning straight through my skull.

Before I could even process it, hundreds of reporters flooded into the hospital.

They propped up their cameras and started filming the screen behind me in a frenzy.

‘No! Get away!’

Cindy was like a woman possessed, darting between the reporters to shove them back and then throwing herself in front of the screen to block it.

Her mother's blood was still smeared across her clothes. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was screaming at them like a wild animal.

In the shoving, I fell into the crowd.

A man lunged from behind me and ripped my shirt apart with one violent tug.

He pointed at the tattoo on my lower back, turning to the crowd with a leering shout.

‘Look! This slut really does have a tattoo on her lower back! Those photos are real! She's nothing but a shameless whore!’

A pair of thick hands clamped around my waist.

Then the kicks and punches came, too many to count.

Through the chaos, a nurse burst out of the ward.

She stared at the crowd and screamed at the top of her lungs.

‘Is Cindy Donaldson here?!’

‘Your mother's crashing!’

The voice that had been screaming to protect me went silent.

Surrounded by curses and spit, Cindy, who was harder than iron, crumpled to the ground.

Beyond the crowd, Maxwell strolled toward us with Peggy on his arm and victory written all over his face.

In that single instant, every image collided at once: my mother dying in agony, Cindy's mother thrown by the dump truck, Cindy collapsing.

They stacked on top of each other, flashing behind my eyes like a strobe.

Hatred erupted from somewhere so deep it felt volcanic.

I forced every ounce of strength into my legs and stood. My bloodshot gaze swept over the two of them, smug and untouchable.

Then my eyes landed on the hundreds of cameras. I clenched my teeth and spoke.

‘You've all been investigating the Grandview Terrace construction disaster ten years ago, haven't you?! The one that killed and injured nearly a hundred people?!’

The words landed, and the color drained from Maxwell's face.

His pupils shrank to pinpoints. He lunged toward me like a man unhinged.

The reporters blocked him instantly. Every lens swung to me.

‘You know the truth?!’

‘Of course I do!’

I screamed it, every word hurled straight into the cameras.

‘Maxwell's father killed those people! And the surveillance footage from that day is in my hands!’