Chapter 10 - THE VIPER'S STRIKE
Z
The morning editions were a bloodbath.
I stood in the vast, state-of-the-art kitchen of the penthouse, the cold marble counter pressing against my stomach as I stared at the tablet Daniel’s crisis manager had left on the island. The headlines screamed in bold, sensationalist fonts across every major news outlet and gossip blog in the city.
BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET: FORMER WAITRESS CLAIMS TO HOLD THE BENNETT HEIR.
EXTORTION OR ROMANCE? THE SCANDAL ROCKING THE BENNETT EMPIRE.
ELEANOR BENNETT OUSTED: IS A MYSTERY WOMAN PULLING THE STRINGS?
But the worst wasn't the headlines. It was the leaked "documents." Eleanor had made good on her threat. Pictures of forged bank statements showing massive deposits into a fictitious offshore account bearing my name were plastered across the internet. There was a fabricated timeline suggesting I had known Daniel’s true identity all along and had been accepting hush money for two decades, only emerging now to orchestrate a hostile takeover.
"Don't look at it," Daniel’s voice came from behind me. He wheeled into the kitchen, his face set in grim, stoic lines. He was dressed in a sharp navy suit, looking every inch the ruthless CEO preparing for battle. He reached over and flipped the tablet face down. "It's all noise, Sarah. My legal team is already filing defamation suits against every publication that ran the story."
"Defamation suits take months, Daniel," I said, my voice trembling with a mixture of rage and terror. "She's trying to ruin us today. Have you seen the comments? They're calling me a parasite. They’re calling Mia a... a pawn."
At the mention of her name, Mia walked into the kitchen. She looked pale, her dark hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She was holding her smartphone, her blue eyes wide with shock.
"My phone won't stop buzzing," Mia said, her voice small and fragile. "Reporters found my social media accounts. They're messaging my friends. People from my architecture classes are asking if I'm a fake." She looked up at Daniel, tears welling in her eyes. "They think you paid us to go away. They think my mom is a criminal."
Daniel’s hands clenched the armrests of his wheelchair so tightly I thought the metal would snap. The sight of his daughter in pain—pain caused by his own mother—pushed him over a dangerous edge.
"Give me your phone, Mia," Daniel said gently.
Mia hesitated, then walked over and handed him the device. Daniel didn't look at the screen. He placed it on the counter, picked up a heavy marble rolling pin resting near the pastry board, and smashed the phone into a hundred shattered pieces.
Mia gasped, jumping back. "What are you doing?!"
"Cutting the cord," Daniel stated, his voice completely devoid of emotion. He pulled out a sleek, black, unbranded smartphone from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "This is a secure line. Only Sarah, myself, and the head of my security detail have the number. Do not log into your old social media. Do not read the news. From this moment on, you are completely dark to the outside world."
"I have classes!" Mia argued, the shock wearing off, replaced by the fierce, stubborn independence she had inherited from both of us. "I have a midterm on Thursday! I can't just hide in this glass box while my life is being shredded online!"
"You are not going to campus," Daniel ordered, the corporate dictator bleeding into the protective father. "It is a circus down there. I have two security teams sweeping the perimeter of the university, and there are already a dozen news vans camped outside your dorm. You are staying here where it is safe."
"You don't get to control my life!" Mia yelled, the trauma of the last few days finally exploding. "You don't get to show up after twenty years, ruin everything, and then lock me in a tower! I am not one of your corporate assets, Daniel!"
She didn't call him Dad. The word hung in the air, a painful absence. Daniel flinched, the harsh lines of his face crumbling for a fraction of a second.
"Mia," I stepped in, trying to mediate. "He's just trying to protect you. Your grandmother is dangerous."
"Then he should have handled his mother before he dragged us into this!" Mia shot back, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. She turned on her heel and sprinted down the long hallway toward her bedroom, slamming the heavy wooden door so hard the penthouse walls vibrated.
Silence descended upon the kitchen, thick and suffocating. Daniel stared at the shattered pieces of Mia's phone, his shoulders slumping. He looked utterly defeated.
"She hates me," he whispered, running a hand through his dark hair. "I try to protect her, and I just push her further away."
I walked over to him, dropping to my knees so I was eye-level with him. I took his hands in mine, forcing him to look at me.
"She doesn't hate you," I said fiercely. "She is terrified. Her entire identity is being publicly rewritten by a monster. She feels powerless."
"Then what do I do, Sarah?" he pleaded, the billionaire completely stripped away, leaving only a desperate man. "Tell me how to fix this."
"You can't fix her emotions with money or security guards," I said, squeezing his hands. "But you can fix the narrative. You said we were going to war in the public eye. So stop playing defense, Daniel. Play offense. Eleanor threw the first punch. It's time you burn her to the ground."
May you like
A dangerous, predatory light slowly returned to Daniel’s blue eyes. He nodded slowly, pulling his phone from his pocket. He hit a speed dial number and put it on speaker.
"Get me the PR team," Daniel commanded the moment the line connected. "I want a press conference set up in the main lobby of the Bennett Tower. One hour. Invite everyone. And tell legal to prepare the 'Lucifer' files. We're ending this today."
