Chapter 8

The press conference had been thrown together at the last minute, and Rosalie was practically shoved in front of the reporters and cameras for photos and a live broadcast. Reporters thrust the photos in the air, demanding answers.

"Mr. Searle just released new information. Ms. Lardner, isn't this you in the photos with the blindfold?"

"Did you frame Ms. Monroe for hiring escorts just because the Lardners and the Searles are sworn enemies?"

"Ms. Lardner, answer the question! Is that you in the photo or not?"

Rosalie clenched her jaw. The humiliation was unbearable. Why did she have to take the fall for Nina's ruined reputation? Why did she have to endure everyone's judgment? Just because Brandon didn't love her, did that give him the right to wreck her life?

Rosalie couldn't swallow this injustice and shouted, "It wasn't me!"

The reporters flinched, exchanging startled looks.

Before Rosalie could say another word, Brandon and Nina stepped into the venue.

The reporters quickly turned their cameras on the pair as they fired off questions.

"Mr. Searle, Ms. Monroe, can you confirm who this person is in the photos?"

Brandon stayed silent, his expression darkening.

Nina's tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "It's Ms. Lardner. The Lardners have always hated the Searles. Now that Declan's gone, they're trying to ruin my reputation—"

Rosalie couldn't hold back any longer. She burst out, "That's a lie! You were the one who framed me!"

But then Nina glanced at the escort standing beside her. It was one of the men from the photos.

The escort spoke up, addressing the reporters, "I can confirm it was Ms. Lardner that night. She dressed just like Ms. Monroe on purpose, hired all eight of us, and spent the whole night getting wild with all of us. She even said that her goal was to humiliate Ms. Monroe while the family was still mourning Mr. Declan Searle's death."

The room erupted into chaos as cameras snapped back to Rosalie. Reporters yelled over one another.

"Ms. Lardner, do you have any response to these allegations?"

"How can you still frame Ms. Monroe with witnesses and evidence right before you?"

"Aren't you worried about tarnishing the Lardners' reputation?"

The questions pounded into Rosalie like relentless waves. Fear coiled in her chest as she kept shaking her head, muttering, "It's not me... The woman in the photos isn't me!"

But no one was listening.

Just then, Nina slithered over, oozing fake sympathy. "Rosalie, just admit your mistake. Everyone will forgive you if you apologize."

Mistake? What had she even done wrong? Why should she be the one to apologize?

A split second later, a shadowy figure lunged at Rosalie and Nina.

He yanked open a bottle and flung its contents straight at their faces, snarling, "It hasn't even been a year since Declan's death, and you're already out there whoring around? I'll ruin your face for him!"

The bottle was filled with sulfuric acid.

Rosalie's eyes flew wide with horror, just in time to see Brandon charging toward them. As the acid splashed through the air, he threw his arms around Nina, shielding her as they hit the floor.

The liquid splashed across Rosalie's hand, instantly searing her entire left arm. The flesh burned, nearly rotting on contact.

Security tackled the assailant. It turned out to be an old friend of Declan's. Furious over what he had seen online, he'd come for revenge.

Rosalie knelt on the floor, tears streaking her face as pain wracked her body. When she lifted her head, she saw Brandon steadying a shaken Nina, helping her up.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

Nina gave a slight shake of her head. "I'm fine. But you! That was sulfuric acid! If it had hit you, it could've been… How could you risk your life like that for me?"

Yet the only one truly hurt was Rosalie. Her heart shattered as she watched Brandon standing protectively beside Nina. Whatever love she still had for him finally burned out.

He didn't care about her reputation. He didn't even care if she lived or died. She swore to herself that she'd never suffer for him again.

Rosalie gritted her teeth, her tears spilling over. Her vision blurred, then darkened completely as her legs gave way and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.