Breaking The Spotlight의 모든 챕터: 챕터 71 - 챕터 80

The courtroom reconvened with a fresh charge in the air. As if everyone sensed that whatever came next wouldn’t just move the case forward, it would break it wide open.Celeste sat down slowly, her expression unreadable. Damien leaned in close. “She’s cracking.”“Not enough,” Celeste whispered. “But she’s close.”The judge looked over his glasses at the room, then nodded toward the prosecution.“We’ll resume with our next witness.”A man in his mid-thirties walked toward the stand. Sharp blazer. Thin-framed glasses. Calm face.“Please state your name and occupation.”“Julian Carter. I’m a digital compliance officer with Vireo Media.”Celeste blinked. Vireo was Veronica’s former PR firm. She felt Damien straighten beside her.“Mr. Carter,” the attorney began, “can you describe the nature of your role at Vireo during the time Ms. Hale was your client?”“I was responsible for overseeing campaign compliance. Making sure media releases, PR strategies, and all supporting content were legal,

The news broke quietly but spread like wildfire. Veronica Hale had been officially blacklisted.It wasn’t just one studio or one streaming giant. It was a coalition of: powerful agencies, A-list influencers, and major production houses releasing a joint statement. They cited her use of manipulated footage, abuse of power, and patterns of coercion in the industry. She was cut off. Cold. It felt... surreal.Celeste sat on the patio of Damien’s condo, a blanket around her shoulders, watching the statement roll across the screen of her tablet.“They actually did it,” she whispered.Damien stepped out behind her, carrying two mugs of coffee. “Told you they would.”She accepted her cup, still staring at the screen. Her photo was splashed beside Veronica’s, but this time, it wasn’t scandal. It was vindication.“The statement… it reads like a death sentence,” she said.Damien sat beside her. “It is. In this industry, reputation is currency. And hers just went bankrupt.”Celeste read over the

Celeste stepped out of the black SUV into a wall of flashing lights and quiet murmurs that erupted into a wave of applause the moment she appeared. The Clean Slate campaign launch wasn’t a red carpet event, but it might as well have been. Camera crews lined the sidewalk, reporters with notepads and phones aimed like weapons of curiosity, and a massive banner above the building entrance bore her name alongside the campaign logo.Damien exited from the other side, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, no tie, his presence commanding without needing a word. He walked around the vehicle and took her hand without hesitation.She gripped it tightly, drawing from his calm the way she had learned to.“Are you ready?” he asked, voice low so only she could hear.Celeste looked out at the sea of faces, some waiting to celebrate, others waiting for her to trip. Her answer was steady. “I’ve been ready since the moment she threatened Kira.”Inside the venue, the lights dimmed as the stage came into vie

They called it The Trial of the Century before opening statements had even been made.News cameras blanketed the courthouse steps. Legal analysts debated tactics around the clock. Influencers turned it into content. Veronica Hale, the queenmaker turned queenpin, was finally on trial for fraud, blackmail, conspiracy and extortion. The charges read like the climax of a noir film.But for Celeste, it wasn’t theater. It was justice, the kind that was slow, brutal and way overdue.She stood outside the courthouse in a tailored black suit, no frills, no distractions. Her hair was pulled back tightly, makeup minimal. Damien stood beside her in a charcoal gray suit, sharp and cold. They didn’t speak as the cameras flashed. The stood representing each other.Inside, the courtroom was packed, press passes, lawyers, victims, and observers from every part of the industry. The judge, a no-nonsense federal heavyweight, commanded silence the moment proceedings began.Veronica sat at the defendant’s

In the quiet that followed the verdict, life began to start to feel like normal. The kind that don’t come in headlines or giddy applause, but in stillness. Although everything was over, both Damien and Celeste kept looking, expecting something, an ambush, a betrayal, the final piece of debris falling from a structure that had already burned.They’d won, publicly, legally and morally, but victories didn’t erase scars.Celeste sat at the edge of the bed, barefoot, legs folded beneath her, the penthouse dim but not dark. The gold envelope in her hand caught a thread of moonlight, glinting faintly. She hadn’t opened it yet, but she knew what was inside.The letter had arrived that afternoon, an international award recognizing courage in media, resilience in the face of corruption. It was the kind of honor entire careers were built around. Entire press cycles. Red carpets. Standing ovations.But to her, it felt 1distant. Like something that belonged to another life.She ran her thumb alon