Semua Bab The Billionaire’s Unexpected Love: Bab 81 - Bab 85

The following day, The press room buzzed like a disturbed hive. Reporters crammed shoulder-to-shoulder, cameras rolling, fingers hovering over record buttons. The air was thick with tension, rumors, and the electric anticipation of scandal. They’d all seen the headlines. They all expected a fall. What they didn’t expect was John Bells standing before them with a calm fury in his eyes—and May Hemlings beside him, no longer hiding. She wore no makeup. No designer label. Just a simple navy blouse and strength. The kind that came from surviving hell and daring to return with receipts. John stepped forward. “I was removed from my position at Bells Corp yesterday,” he began, voice low but resonant. “Not because of incompetence, corruption, or fraud—but because I refused to be controlled by men who hide behind power.” Cameras clicked. Reporters leaned in. “This isn’t just about a CEO being ousted,” he continued. “It’s about how the truth gets buried when it threatens the wrong people.

The next evening.Smith always thought charm could buy him a clean slate. Even now, as he leaned into the camera for yet another podcast interview—hair perfectly styled, voice syrupy smooth—he smirked as if nothing could touch him. “I was misled,” he said, lips curled like a man auditioning for sympathy. “May played everyone. Even me. I mean, who hides a baby from her husband, right?” Across the city, in the Bells penthouse, May watched with quiet fury. The video played on mute. She didn’t need to hear the lies to feel them. Her phone pinged. A message from her lawyer: “Drop goes live in 5 minutes.” “Let him talk,” she murmured. John leaned over the couch, glancing at the paused video. “Last words before the plunge.” Exactly five minutes later, the internet exploded. An anonymous exposé hit every major blog, news site, and YouTube channel. Under the hashtag #TheRealSmith, the post contained: • Screenshots of Smith begging May to let him claim the baby, even after the pater

They called it “The Trial of the Decade.” Adrian Vale vs. The Truth. The courthouse steps were choked with reporters. Microphones thrust into every corner. Camera shutters blinking like bullets. Protesters held signs scrawled with phrases like “Justice for Lena” and “Mental Health Is Not a Weapon.” May stood beside John in a fitted black suit, baby strapped to her chest, Saint clutching her hand like a lifeline. She didn’t say a word to the reporters. Her silence screamed louder than a thousand interviews. Inside, the courtroom was stacked with the press, elite board members, federal agents, and curious public figures who once worshipped Adrian’s name. Now they waited to see if he’d fall. Adrian walked in with his usual arrogance. But something was different. His swagger had a limp. His smile cracked. His tailored suit, pristine—but his eyes? Nervous. Like a lion finally sensing the trap around its throat. The judge entered. “All rise.” The trial began. John took the stand