Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE SECRET TWIN HEIR : Bab 81 - Bab 90

~ Aria POV ~The phone's shrill ring cuts through the morning silence like a blade. My coffee mug slips from my fingers, ceramic shattering against the kitchen floor as I see Michael's name flashing on the screen."Aria." His voice is tight, strained. Not the warm tone I've grown used to these past months. "Have you seen—""No." The word comes out sharper than I intended. My heart's already racing, that familiar dread creeping up my spine. "What happened?""Turn on Channel 7. Now."I'm moving before he finishes speaking, bare feet stepping over coffee puddles and ceramic shards. The remote trembles in my hands as I fumble with the buttons. Michael's still on the line, his breathing heavy in my ear.The screen flickers to life, and there it is. My face. Our faces. Alex and Austin's university photos blown up on a split screen with some grainy paparazzi shot of Michael and me from last week."—explosive revelations about the Walton-Campbell empire continue to surface," the anchor's voi

The coffee shop smells like burnt beans and disappointment. I sit in the corner booth, watching steam curl from my untouched latte while scrolling through the latest business headlines on my phone. Another failed attempt. The financial rumors I'd carefully planted last week—anonymous tips to three different financial journalists about irregularities in the Walton-Campbell merger—had been debunked within forty-eight hours.*Damn them.*Michael and Aria's response had been swift and brutal. Press conferences. Financial transparency reports. Third-party audits. They'd turned my attack into a showcase of their business integrity. The headlines now read like love letters to their corporate marriage.My fingers tighten around the phone until my knuckles go white. Ten years in that hellhole of a prison, and for what? To watch them parade around like some power couple success story while I scrape together schemes that fall apart faster than wet tissue paper.The bell above the door chimes. I

~ Jessica POV ~The champagne bubbled against my lips as I settled deeper into the leather couch, eyes glued to the flat screen. Channel 7 News. Right on schedule."This is exactly what we needed," I murmured to the empty penthouse, raising my glass toward the screen. Victoria Sterling's reflection stared back at me from the black mirror of the turned-off TV beside it. Perfect cheekbones. Perfect nose. Nothing left of Jessica Campbell except the hatred burning in my chest.The news anchor's voice filled the room like music. "—shocking revelations about one of New Jersey's most prominent charities. Documents obtained by this station suggest that the Children's Hope Foundation, founded by billionaire philanthropist Aria Walton, has been funneling donations into private accounts rather than helping disadvantaged children."I laughed—a sound that would've made my old therapist in prison very concerned. "Look at that, Aria. Your precious reputation crumbling on live television."My phone b

"She's not exactly known for making friends. Elizabeth Walton has a talent for making enemies.""We'll start there." Frank flipped to a new page. "What else makes you think these incidents are connected?""The timing. My accident happened right after Alex got accepted to Harvard early admission. Big family celebration, lots of media attention about the 'next generation of Walton heirs.' Then boom—I'm in intensive care.""Could be coincidence.""Could be. But then Alex gets framed for academic dishonesty three months later. Charges that were eventually dropped, but not before it made headlines." I counted off on my fingers. "Then Dad's company loses that major contract with Morrison Industries. Then the IRS audit. Then—""The charity scandal.""Exactly." I leaned forward. "Individually, any of these could be bad luck. Together? Someone's playing a long game."Frank was taking notes faster now. "You said the voice in the hospital was familiar. Anyone from your past who fits the profile?

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry wasps. I smoothed my navy blazer—Victoria Sterling always dressed impeccably—and crossed my legs at the ankle. The metal chair was cold against my back, but I kept my expression serene. Concerned. The perfect picture of a philanthropist wrongly accused.Detective Morrison looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes, coffee stains on his white shirt. Good. Tired cops made mistakes."Ms. Sterling, thank you for coming in voluntarily." He set a manila folder on the scratched table between us. "I know this is... inconvenient.""Of course, Detective." I folded my hands in my lap. "Anything I can do to help clear up this terrible misunderstanding about the Children's Future Foundation. It breaks my heart to see Aria Campbell's charity dragged through the mud like this."His pen clicked. Once. Twice. "You've been quite generous with your donations. Twenty-five thousand just last month.""Children are our future." I let my voice catch slightly.