Chapter 30 Is This What You Wanted All Along?
Zayden, his demeanor sharp and aloof, strode into the room with deliberate slowness.
His features were strikingly handsome, almost sculpted. Every gesture he made exuded effortless elegance, and an in- visible, imposing aura clung to him, casting a palpable tension that made onlookers uneasy.
At the sight of him, Lailah instinctively tightened her fists, her eyes flashing with a cold, hard light.
The reporters, spotting Zayden, immediately converged on him like a swarm of bees to a flower, their cameras flash- ing.
“Mr. Walter, did you come here to seek justice and prosecute this murderer?”
“Mr. Walter, you’ve yet to comment on Mrs. Walter’s alleged hit-and-run involving Ms. Mosley. Does your silence suggest you believe Mrs. Walter is guilty?”
“Mr. Walter, will you be divorcing Lailah?”
The reporters pressed in, their cameras clicking furiously.
Zayden’s handsome face remained a mask of indifference, his composure unshaken.
In response to their relentless questions, he merely stated, “Please step aside.”
His expressionless face held no warmth, his gaze cool yet piercing, enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.
Overwhelmed by his commanding presence, no one dared to push forward.
Zayden brushed through the crowd and instructed Konnor beside him, “Clear the area. Cancel the press conference.”
The moment Zayden’s order to cancel the press conference was heard, chaos erupted in the room.
Unfazed by the commotion, Zayden strode toward Lailah on the stage, his long, tailored strides exuding confidence.
A sharp, mocking laugh escaped Lailah’s lips.
Lailah’s voice cut through the cacophony of the crowd, clear and unwavering.
“Mr. Walter, are you canceling the press conference because you’re afraid I’ll reveal the truth about Ms. Mosley? Do you fear her secrets will finally come to light?”
The moment Lailah spoke, all eyes-and cameras-shifted to her. Flashes burst, phones recorded frantically.
“Secrets? What’s going on here?”
“Is there more to this story than we thought?”
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“Lailah wouldn’t call a press conference for no reason.”
Zayden stepped onto the stage, his gaze dark and inscrutable, locked onto hers.
He seized her wrist, his voice low. “Let’s discuss this at home.”
Lailah recoiled, shoving his hand away with deliberate coldness.
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“Why at home? Are you expecting me to continue taking the fall for Ms. Mosley, to endure all this slander alone?”
A glacial edge sharpened Zayden’s dark eyes. “I’ll handle this for you. Now, come home.”
A hollow laugh escaped Lailah. “Zayden, this isn’t like you.”
She knew that once the truth surfaced, Tamara would be utterly ruined. That was when he’d decided to intervene.
But where was he when she was drowning in online harassment?
Likely at the hospital, soothing Tamara, promising to solve her problems, while lecturing Lailah, the supposed “mur- derer” who’d dared to cross her.
Zayden’s patience snapped. His voice turned razor-sharp. “Lailah, how much longer will you drag this out?”
“Drag what out?” Lailah’s stare was cold. “In your eyes, is it a scene every time I refuse to tolerate Tamara the way you do?”
The realization of his mistake struck Zayden. He fell silent.
“I’ll give you an explanation and clear your name. Lailah, you don’t want the whole world to witness our humiliation, do you?”
Lailah hesitated for a beat, then conceded, “Very well. Let’s talk first.”
Only then did the severe line of Zayden’s mouth relax fractionally.
Lailah turned and headed toward the backstage area.
If her suspicions were correct, the live feed had surely been cut.
Anything she announced today would never reach the public.
The press conference would amount to a farce-her standing before an audience, saying nothing, and becoming a laughingstock.
Meanwhile, Zayden would have free rein to spin tales for Tamara, even twisting the narrative against her if it suited him.
He was utterly ruthless!
***
In the backstage lounge, Lailah fixed Zayden with a stare.
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“Mr. Walter, what is it you wish to say to me?”
Zayden’s voice was a low, chilling timbre. “I will manage the online backlash and its consequences for you…’
Before he could finish, Lailah cut him off, her interruption calm.
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“Mr. Walter, if your solution relies solely on strong-arm tactics and suppression, I cannot accept it. Even if you man- age to erase every online post and news article, the stain of being labeled vicious and a murderer will linger in the minds of everyone.”
She gazed into his dark, deep eyes, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips.
“Perhaps I will incite public fury once more, get mobbed again.”
Zayden’s gaze drifted, settling on the faint, healed scar on her forehead. His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly.
“I will clear your name.”
“Clear my name?” Lailah repeated, the words dripping with sarcasm. “My reputation’s been mud for so long, and only now, Mr. Walter, do you decide to step in?”
He met her stare, his voice deliberate. “Name your terms.”
Lailah’s eyes flickered. “There are two conditions.”
Zayden assented instantly, “Agreed.”
Lailah said, her tone cool, “Mr. Walter, I suggest you wait until I’ve finished before agreeing.”
“Go ahead.”
Lailah continued, “The first condition is that you give me 20 million dollars.”
A shadow crossed Zayden’s dark eyes; 20 million dollars was no trivial sum.
“Why would you need so much money?”
Lailah replied with composed calm, “That would be compensation for the mental distress and the ruin of my reputa- tion. I’ve been slandered for days on end. Surely, Mr. Walter, you don’t expect Ms. Mosley to simply offer an apology and call it even, do you?”
After a tense silence, Zayden finally conceded.
“Deal.”
Lailah couldn’t suppress a cynical inward smirk. For Tamara, he was indeed extravagant, willing to part with 20 mil- lion dollars without so much as a flinch.
Just then, Zayden posed a sudden, pointed question, “Is this what you wanted all along?”
Lailah looked up. “What?”
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“Did you orchestrate all of this just to demand money from me?”
Her expression turned frigid, and she offered no explanation.
“If that’s how you see it, then yes.”
His dark, deep eyes held her captive, unwavering, like the cold depths of a stagnant pond.
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“This video came from your dashcam, didn’t it? You’ve had the evidence all along. Yet you said nothing, gave it to no one, not even the police. Lailah, you did this deliberately, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, a cold smile playing on her lips. “Had I revealed it sooner, would I have had the chance to ex- tort 20 million dollars from you like this? Besides…
“I wanted to see what Ms. Mosley would do when cornered, lacking proof, and how much faith you, Mr. Walter, would place in my word.
“Everything unfolded precisely as I anticipated.”
Not a trace of sadness or disappointment marred Lailah’s expression; she remained as composed as if discussing mat- ters entirely detached from herself.
Zayden’s brow furrowed. “For money, you were willing to endure such slander, to let others heap harm upon you… Lailah, can money truly mean that much to you?”
