Chapter 5

The headline "Eleanor Morley The School Bully" swept the trending list within ten minutes, a thirty-minute video of one-sided torment.

At the end of the footage, a familiar figure briefly appeared.

Netizens spotted Carsten Morgan.

A firestorm erupted online.

"Was Amelia the one being bullied?"

"Eleanor's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Absolutely vile."

"This is practically attempted murder. The police need to investigate."

"Amelia begged Carsten for help, but he ignored her."

"I used to ship Eleanor and Carsten. Now it makes me sick."

"Poor Amelia."

"File the case. Justice for the victim."

Besides posting online, I submitted stacks of evidence and filed a lawsuit.

That night, the police took Eleanor away.

As she left, she spat venomously, "I'll be out in no time. When I am, you're done for."

Carsten, implicated as well, was also taken in for questioning.

I knew the police wouldn't hold them long.

But I didn't expect them to be released the next day.

All my evidence got thrown out by the court, deemed insufficient.

The Morgans threatened to sue me for defaming Eleanor's reputation if I didn't drop the case.

The videos vanished from the internet.

Meanwhile, Morgan Enterprises' stock plummeted day after day.

I stared at my computer screen.

After a moment, I made a call. "Blaine, it's time to contact the board members. Start buying their shares at a premium."

A woman's voice answered, "Got it, Amelia."

She hesitated before continuing, "You exposed your scars to the world with that video, but the bad guys still got away. Was it worth it?"

She'd clearly seen the online tide turning.

People claimed things didn't just happen without a reason, questioning why Eleanor targeted only me.

The blame shifted, painting me as the villain.

I fell silent for a moment. "As long as I can still speak, I'll keep talking."

Some people, silenced forever in the past, never got that chance.

...

The Morgans sensed the market's unrest.

Soon after, they hosted a high-society banquet, inviting Jaxperton's elites.

When I got home, I found a gilded invitation on the coffee table.

A custom long-sleeve evening gown hung on the rack.

I picked up the attached card.

The handwriting was bold, elegant. "The time has come. Join the game."

I ran my fingers over it.

The next day, I arrived at the banquet.

Guests recognized me, their gazes curious and judgmental.

I sipped my wine, unfazed.

After a while, I heard whispers.

"I heard the Rowe family head is coming tonight."

"Same. That's the only reason I bothered showing up for the Morgans."

"The Morgans have been riding their uncle's coattails for years."

"Didn't someone start buying up Morgan shares at a high price? Their company's getting gutted."

"They've done enough dirty deeds to deserve it."

I listened quietly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carsten and Eleanor descend the grand staircase.

Carsten said a few polished words to the crowd.

They raised their glasses in a toast.

Then they headed straight for me in the corner.

"How do you have the nerve to show up at a Morgan event?" Eleanor's voice dripped with scorn.

Heads turned toward us.

Carsten's face darkened as he saw me. "Amelia, I treated you well before, and this is how you sabotage my family?"

After a pause, he sneered, his eyes mocking.

He lowered his voice, "Did you really think your little evidence would matter? One word from the Morgans, and it's gone."

My grip tightened on my wine glass.

Eleanor eyed me up and down, giggling behind her hand. "What's the point of dressing up? Your body's covered in scars. Disgusting!"

Other guests overheard, their expressions turning sour.

Carsten chimed in with a laugh, "Those little scars? I don't get why you made such a fuss. You're still alive and well, aren't you?"

He raised an eyebrow, unbothered.

Then his tone shifted. "Even if you want to stir trouble, know your place and your limits. I've got my uncle, the insanely rich Rowe family head, backing me. Even if you vanished tonight, no one would dare touch me."

Eleanor beamed smugly, her laugh loud and haughty.

I listened, eyes lowered, hiding my emotions.

I swirled my wine glass gently. "Had your say?"

Carsten blinked, then frowned.

His voice turned cold, "How dare you take that tone with me-"

Before he finished, I splashed my wine in his face.

He froze, then glared at me, furious.

"Are you trying to die?" He roared, reaching to grab my neck.

A hand pulled me back.

The familiar scent of cedar enveloped me.

A man's calm, commanding voice rang out, "Try it, and see who ends up dead."