Chapter 242: ~ 242
Chapter 242
~Franklin~
I leaned back in my chair, swirling a glass of scotch that remained untouched. Through the heavily encrypted, secure monitor on my desk, Clinton’s and Detective Tate’s faces were split across the screen. We had been working around the clock, tracing digital footprints and tracking the sudden, frantic surge of dark-web communication originating from Bella’s sectors.
"Bella’s contact, Rodrigo, has fully mobilized a media distribution network. They’ve lined up high-society tabloids, anonymous press releases, and legal notices. She’s locked and loaded to drop a nuclear scandal into the public eye within the next twenty-four hours."
Clinton leaned forward on his side of the screen, his expression deeply grave. "Franklin, our media team can try to file emergency injunctions to freeze the servers, but if she distributes the physical medical files directly to your grandfather’s residence as a preliminary strike, a legal block won’t stop the internal family fallout. We need to decide if we’re going to intercept the courier heading to the patriarch."
Hearing his warning, I didn’t panic. I didn’t even blink. A cold, slow, and utterly lethal smile curled at the corner of my lips, and I took a slow sip of my drink.
"No," I commanded, my voice smooth, deep, and completely unyielding. "Do not intercept anything heading to my grandfather. Let her send whatever she wants to his doorstep."
Clinton blinked, caught off guard. "Franklin, are you sure? You know how much old people values the family legacy. If Bella claims she’s carrying—"
"Bella is a delusional fool who thinks she understands the dynamics of the Flemington family," I interrupted coldly. "She thinks my grandfather is a predictable puppet who can be manipulated by the mere mention of an unborn child. She doesn’t know him at all. My grandfather is a good, righteous man. He isn’t a fool blinded by desperation. He doesn’t care about Bella, her schemes, or her pathetic attempts to crawl back into our circle. The only person he truly cares about, the only person he respects and protects with his entire heart in this family, is Octavia."
I set my glass down.
"Bella thinks the patriarch is her ultimate ticket to forcing my hand," I continued, my eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "But she is naively walking straight into a slaughterhouse. Let her play her game. Let her think she has the upper hand for the next twenty-four hours."
"Franklin," Tate’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the secure monitor. "If we’re letting her drop the media bomb publicly, what is our counter-offensive? We can’t just let the Flemington stock take a hit based on her paternity claims."
"We won’t," I murmured, leaning forward into the light of the lamp. "Because Bella’s biggest card is a complete and utter fraud."
I opened a heavily encrypted, biometric-locked folder on my terminal, sliding a digital document across the shared network to Clinton and Tate.
"When Bella first made her dramatic return, I didn’t just sit back and watch her theater," I explained, my tone dripping with a terrifying calmness. "I unleashed a private medical investigation team. I had them quietly dig into the records of the former medical center she used overseas before she arrived back in New York. It took a massive amount of pressure, legal maneuvering, and a deep audit of their secure database, but we broke through."
Clinton’s eyes widened as the document loaded onto his screen. "This is..."
"A definitive, paternity profile," I finished for him, my voice cutting through the speaker like a blade. "I did a private, comprehensive DNA comparison against the fetal markers obtained during her early clinic visits at that facility. The child she is carrying is absolutely, unequivocally not mine."
The silence on the video call was absolute. Even Tate, a seasoned detective who had seen the darkest corners of high society, let out a low, impressed whistle.
"She’s running a high-stakes bluff," Tate stated, a smirk appearing on his face. "She’s banking on the fact that you would be too afraid of the public scandal to demand a verified test before the board, or that the grandfather would force a marriage before the truth could be uncovered."
"Exactly," I said, my jaw tightening with a dangerous edge. "She wants to use the court of public opinion to trap me. But she has played her hand against the wrong man. Clinton, I want a multi-million-dollar fraud and defamation lawsuit drafted and finalized within the next twelve hours. The exact moment Bella’s fixer releases those documents to the tabloids and to my grandfather, I want our legal team to immediately drop the verified, certified medical records from her former clinic directly to the press."
I leaned back, my fingers interlacing over my chest as I mapped out the absolute destruction of my ex-fiancée.
"We are going to let her spend the next twenty-four hours celebrating her pathetic little countdown," I murmured, the dark, strategic beast inside me fully awakened. "We are going to let her believe she is about to shatter Octavia’s world. And just when she thinks she is about to stand on top of our ruins, we are going to pull the trigger on the medical evidence and legally obliterate her entire existence. She will not only lose this; she will face criminal prosecution for corporate extortion."
"Understood," Tate said, his expression locking into a serious, operational nod. "The traps are fully set. We are monitoring Rodrigo’s servers. The moment they go live, our countermeasures will deploy simultaneously."
"Good. Keep me updated every hour," I commanded, and with a swift motion, I disconnected the secure line, the monitor fading into pitch black.
I sat alone in the quiet study for a long moment, the heavy weight of the impending battle settling around me. I stood up, and walked slowly out of the study, heading down the dimly lit hallway toward our master bedroom.
I pushed the door open softly. Octavia was curled up under the silk sheets, the moonlight filtering through the glass balcony doors and illuminating her serene, beautiful face. Her breathing was slow and even, her hand resting naturally over her stomach, protecting our true, undisputed legacy sleeping safely inside her.
I walked over to the edge of the bed, and carefully slid under the covers beside her. The moment my warmth reached her, Octavia stirred slightly, and she instinctively shifted closer, resting her head against my chest.
I wrapped my arms securely around her, pulling her into my embrace, my heart swelling with an absolute, terrifying devotion to the woman in my arms.
"I love you more than you can ever imagine sweetheart, never doubt it. Even in this testing time." I murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head.
Comments