CHAPTER 14

"Take it down. Is it that hard? Take the darn thing down!"

My voice thundered—strained, burning, and furious as it bellowed against the bedroom walls. I clutched my phone until my knuckles went white.

"I don't care how you do it, take it down!" I shouted. "You're the PR person, aren't you? Behave like one!"

I marched like a caged beast, the kimono silk whipping at my shins with each firm stride. The glass of water on my dressing table trembled as I strode past it once more, shaking with the same tension as my nerves.

"We've been acting on it since it went live an hour ago," Jonathan's voice cracked over the speaker, hesitant. "We've marked it up on a number of platforms, requested a takedown…”

"AND?!" I shouted. "An hour and still trending? Do you think I hired you to try?!"

Silence.

"Ms. Davids, we're doing everything we can…"

"Well, it's not enough!" I shrieked. "If that post is not taken down, and you fail to produce a name within thirty minutes, then you can regard your contract with me terminated. Do you get me, Jonathan? Terminated!

I did not wait for a response. My finger slammed the screen so hard I cracked the phone case. My chest heaved. My pulse hammered in my temples.

The tears welled up but anger held them back by a thread.

I frantically searched the room, my wild eyes scanning every corner. My eyes settled on the lamp standing beside my bed. My trembling hands shook even harder. I grasped it and hurled it against the wall with a scream. Glass shattered everywhere, just like my peace.

Then the perfume tray followed- another crash.

"Liana?!"

My mom's voice interrupted the noise just as I scooped up a framed photo off my desk. I spun around and flung it just as the door opened.

It crashed an inch from her, shattering into the wall beside her.

Time froze.

My heart dropped. My breath caught. The shards on the floor sparkled like an accusation.

"I…" The word rushed out of me, parched and useless. But the guilt came too early, toppling me over.

My legs buckled and I fell to the ground. Limp arms crossed over my knees as a sob tore through my throat. All the anger just dissolved like salt in rain.

"Mum…," I panted, as sobs washed over me, hot and merciless. "I didn't mean…"

She said nothing. She just walked in, silent and careful and knelt beside me. She leaned my head against her shoulder without a word and let me cry.

And God, I cried.

The sort of crying that consumes you. Loud, sloppy, uncontrollable sobs that shook my chest and stole my breath. She just held me, her hand in my hair, slow and unchanging like time itself.

"I saw the post," she whispered finally. "I'm so sorry, darling. I really am."

I didn't respond. I couldn't. I just rolled tighter into her, holding her shoulder like it was the only thing that grounded me.

"It's never going away," I was able to get out in a gruff voice, barely forming the words.

"It's everywhere. And they all think this… this…" I gagged, gasping through the hurricane in my chest. "How do you fix this? How do you undo a lie that loud?"

Her sigh was soft.

"I don't know honey. But here's what I know, this will pass. I know it doesn't look like it at the moment, but it will."

I pulled back and gazed at her, my face red from shame, my voice raw.

"How?" I whispered. "How is it going to pass when someone just woke up one morning and decided to destroy all that I built up with bloody lies, Mum!"

She leaned in and wiped away a tear from my cheek. "The truth does not go away just because someone wakes up and tells a lie," she said. "It waits. Waits for the noise to die away so that it can speak again."

I sneered bitterly. "That sounds poetic. But it's not the truth that is trending, is it? It's the lies. And my PR team is as useless as the post is. They can't even delete one piece of fake news."

She didn't argue. She allowed the silence to say what she could not.

Then, finally, she said, "You can break. Just don't stay broken."

I gazed at her, my lower lip trembling, glassy eyes overflowing with everything I couldn't possibly express. "I'm tired," I mouthed. "I've struggled all my fucking life, and for what? So that people I don't know can boot dirt on my face without facing the consequences?"

"You fought because you wanted something," she answered softly. "And now, you continue to fight because you  have a little girl who looks up to you."

That hit me like a sucker punch.

Cam. My little firecracker, my strategist in training. My truth.

The realization that she was alone altered something inside me. The tears slowed down. My breathing steadied, but only for a moment.

Because with that one thought, another storm rolled in. A realization.

A shadow crossed my face before I even realized it. My mother must have seen it too because her hand faltered half way through my hair.

What is it?" she whispered. "That look… what are you thinking?"

I didn't answer at first. I stared at the wall, jaw clenched, breathing shallow. My voice, when I finally spoke, was low. Constricted. Fuming beneath the surface.

" Dominic."

Her brow furrowed. "Dominic?"

"Fuck…" I stood up slowly, legs stiff, unsteady but firm. "How didn't I think of this earlier? It him… It has to be him."

"Liana.".

"He's the only one who'd go that far," I break in, pacing now, holding my robe tight around me like a shield. "He's the only one with motive. With malice. And he's my only known adversary"

"Liana, you're in a competitive profession. You don't know that…"

“Oh, come on, Mum!" I faced her. "You know what he can do. You saw what he did to me years ago. You were there, you felt what he made us experience— me, that is, because he doesn't know Cam."

"I'm just saying be careful about jumping into conclusions, especially when you're upset."

I laughed, a short, bitter one. "I'm not just upset. I'm certain.".

I marched to the closet, threw it open, and grabbed on a robe, tying it tightly around my waist like I was going to war.

"If he wants trouble…" I growled, "then he is going to get fire and fucking brimstone because I am ready. He should have killed me when I was still living under his roof."

"Liana!" My mom stood now, voice firmer. "Think before you do something stupid. If he's the one, then he wants a reaction. He wants to see you lose your temper, dont give him what…"

"Don't give him what mum? He's going to see it, all of it." I growled cutting her words in half as I pushed past her.

"Liana," she tried again, following me down the hallway, "don't fight his madness with your own. You are playing with fire."

I hesitated at the door, fingers on the handle. Her words struck me but they just didn't stick.

I spun on her, eyes blazing. "Then let's see who burns hotter."

And with that, I flung open the door and stepped out into the night, the wind slapping me as I staggered along like a wounded madwoman.