Elena, I gave you a chance.
Everything you had before was just luck. Did you really think I couldn’t touch you? Beg me. If you grovel, maybe I’ll consider helping you out of this mess.
The messages were from Vivian.
Louie leaned over to look and immediately exploded.
Harper and Se7ven did too–suddenly the whole living room was filled with profanity.
Amelia gripped her phone tight.
Vivian’s relentless pressure, her arrogant threats–was she really supposed to just sit here hoping for a
miracle?
No.
She had to do something!
Her mind flashed to that overcast day when her father died with his eyes wide open, and that rainy night when a blurry–faced boy had stood in front of her with half a broken wooden stick.
And… the child she’d lost.
Life had to be controlled by your own hands.
She was done…
Done being that powerless Amelia.
Her nails dug into her palms–the pain cleared her head slightly.
The divorce papers could wait a few days.
Right now, the most urgent thing was handling the show situation.
Which came down to two issues:
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One: Would the show get suddenly canceled?
Two: Would the investors force her to quit?
When Amelia opened her eyes again, they were completely determined.
First, she wouldn’t voluntarily quit.
If all the investors demanded her withdrawal, could she buy some time?
She didn’t need to wait until the final live show to clear her name–she just needed to wait three more days to get her divorce papers, then show those plus supporting evidence to the other investors.
The public wanted the show to give them answers, so give them an answer: “To avoid any injustice, an investigation is needed,” with results promised before the final live show–say, 4-5 days.
Amelia looked at Louie apologetically: “Louie, you might have to take some heat for a while.”
She spoke clearly and firmly: “You might need to make some promises–that in 4 or 5 days, you’ll give them a satisfactory answer, before the final live show at the latest.”
Amelia explained her thinking.
Louie immediately got it, his eyes lighting up.
Of course!
A time gap!
He nodded: “Don’t worry, I’ll go throw a tantrum and stall them. With your reasoning, both the public and investors should accept a few days‘ delay. I’ll use my Cavendish family weight to pressure them. Once
you get those papers, we’re golden.”
Everyone else nodded enthusiastically.
Harper said excitedly: “Right! We don’t need to wait for the next episode–just a few days.”
“Exploit a loophole! Bro, look how smart she is,” Se7ver said to James, who’d just come back out.
Just then, Louie’s phone buzzed again.
It was Percival Cavendish calling.
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Now Louie had to answer.
“Get back here,” the old man’s stern voice came through. “Right now!”
The other investors probably couldn’t reach Louie and had gone to the grandfather.
“Yes, grandpa, I’ll be right there.” Louie hung up, grabbed his car keys, and told the others: “I’ll video call you guys on another phone, stay in touch. I’ve got to handle grandpa.”
Everyone nodded.
Louie rushed out.
After Louie stabilized his grandfather and used family pressure, they should be able to stall the investors temporarily.
But what about regulatory review?
There’d been cases before where shows with bad public opinion or problematic artists got official
“guidance.”
At minimum, all that artist’s segments got cut.
At worst, the whole show got canceled.
The investors would consider this angle too.
Amelia thought for a moment, then looked at Harper: “Can I use the computer?”
Harper immediately opened her laptop.
Amelia’s fingers flew across the keyboard while having Harper and Se7ven help find relevant
information.
She couldn’t fight this alone–she needed collective intelligence.
She looked apologetically at James: “Sorry about this.”
James had mentioned not liking noise before.
James waved it off, his attention focused on Harper’s computer.
After saying a few words to them, he went to work on his program.
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“You should probably remove that SIM card. I think this Vivian person won’t pass up the chance to leak your number,” James said.
Actually, Vivian had already started.
Amelia’s phone kept vibrating with abusive text messages and a barrage of verification codes bombarding
her.
Amelia pulled out Elena’s SIM card.
Elena’s number was a special card Cavendish Entertainment had prepared–it couldn’t be traced to Amelia’s personal information. Removing it would bring peace and quiet.
Amelia pocketed the card and looked at the other two in the living room: “Let’s continue.”
“Yeah!”
“Let’s do this!”
It was evening now. Even if there were going to be official directives, they’d come tomorrow, since giving guidance required meetings and reviews.
Some procedures could only happen during business hours.
Meanwhile, at Vivian’s flower shop.
Vivian watched Nathan’s car drive away through the window, then looked at the messages she’d just sent Elena, smiling as she wiped the tears from her face.
Her smile was somewhat twisted.
Too much had happened during this recording. At some point, she’d been constantly on the defensive.
According to her plan, Elena shouldn’t have been able to win this round at all, but a mysterious powerful force had suddenly appeared, forcing her to pass up this opportunity and save her strength for the final
round.
She’d originally planned to drop the charity fraud bon during the final episode like Elena’s team had ambushed in the third round–catching them off guard with no time to prepare.
But caught up in the speculation storm, she’d been forced to use bigger ammunition to suppress
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everything.
The charity fraud card had to be played early.
Vivian murmured softly: “But so what if it came out early? Elena, your name isn’t on that donor list. Even if you donate now, people will think it’s not genuine–that you’re being forced to. Your image is already destroyed. Let’s see how you recover from this!”
Her caregiver couldn’t help saying: “But Ms. Hope, your name isn’t on the donor list either. What if…”
Vivian looked at the caregiver like she was an idiot: “Are you stupid? Everyone knows Nathan bought
that tanzanite for me, and that ruby pendant was around my neck. What does it matter if my name’s on
some list?”
“These things were witnessed by everyone. They don’t need to be on a list.” Vivian said.
The caregiver wanted to say something else but closed her mouth. She’d been about to point out that they weren’t even divorced yet–wasn’t that marital property?
But she thought better of it. She’d just get yelled at again.
(14)
