Romans & histoires Begging For Forgiveness On Livestream

A phone was set up beside her, streaming live as she repeatedly begged for my forgiveness and cried about her situation. As soon as Sandra saw me, it was like she'd spotted a lifeline. She turned the camera on me, voice trembling with tears. "Steven, I was wrong. Please… can you forgive me this once? We've been through so much together. How can it all end over a misunderstanding?

"How audacious! How could the perpetrator go live right now? How is this just?" "You'd better apologize, or we, the entire online community, will never let you off!" I remained completely calm as I watched the torrent of comments. "I have started this live stream today to set the record straight, as everything you've seen lately is the exact opposite of the truth. I'm going to expose the actual culprit behind this and clear Heather's name once and for all." I directly projected all the chat logs onto the screen after saying that. It caused the comment section to fall into a brief, stunned silence before erupting into a surge of messages, scrolling at a speed that made the comments nearly imp

All that came out was a broken rasp. The last trace of hesitation in Xenia's eyes disappeared when she heard Aaron's expert conclusion. They were replaced with disgust. She kicked my hand away from her leg. "Don't touch me!" The force sent me rolling across the floor until I slammed into the wall. I hit the concrete with a dull thud. Another wave of pain crashed over me. "Make the announcement. Suspect Caleb Lawson will undergo a 24-hour compulsory detox live-stream," Xenia said, her voice echoing through the room. "The world needs to see how drugs can turn a once-glamorous man into something less than human."

"Juliana, you're here." I nodded once, but said nothing as I strode straight to the main seat. Laura sat across from me, pale and evasive, like a frightened rabbit. Liam stood behind her, guarding her, his gaze full of undisguised resentment as it rested on me. The live stream began. Mr. White spoke first, reading a heartfelt apology to the camera, admitting his past misjudgment and pleading with me to forgive him. The comments section erupted. "Damn. I didn't know rich people could apologize. I've actually lived long enough to witness it."

"Does your father know that you reported Ms. Lorde?" "Will you make a formal apology to Ms. Lorde?" Heather shoved her way through the crowd and stumbled outside. Her white shirt was stained with foundation and tears. I didn't feel any happiness as I watched her bolt out of the meeting room. I also didn't feel any sympathy for her. I simply felt inexplicably exhausted. I looked down at my phone. Countless comments were still scrolling past in the live stream, but everyone had changed their tune. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I criticized you in the past. I'm willing to grovel at your feet for your forgiveness."

"Isabella, you b*tch!" "Mia and her brother are family! Of course they're close!" "What right do you have to be jealous?" "You're even trying to steal Mia's boyfriend now? How desperate are you?" They ranted passionately while the audience joined in and fueled the chaos. "Apologize!" "Apologize to Mia in front of everyone!" "That's right! The stream is recording everything! Don't even think about ending the livestream without apologizing!" I waited until they finished screaming before calmly saying one sentence.

"Xender, please! My father is going to kill me! He’s gone mad—he’s talking about breaking my legs if I don't fix this. Please, just tell the Nightfall Atelier to release the trade embargo!" I leaned back, the scent of cedar and ozone filling the room. "The embargo stays. But I’ll make you a deal. A public apology. A livestream. Kneeling before the pack leaders you tried to turn against me. And then, maybe, I’ll let you keep your head." "You want me to kneel?" she shrieked. "I want you to show the world exactly who you are." I disconnected the line. I didn't need to hear her answer. I could already see the cracks in their foundation.

On the fifteenth of every month, Rowan Hawthorn and I would swap homes. Eighteen years ago, a hospital accidentally swapped our embryos during IVF and put them into the wrong mothers. When the truth came out, my biological parents, Frank and Ronnie Hawthorn, wanted to keep Rowan. But his biological parents, Eugene and Rowena Cooper, wanted him back. They decided that he would live with each family for one month. Then, we would switch on the fifteenth of every month. I, on the other hand, became the unwanted burden. Wherever Rowan went, the house would be fully stocked with snacks and drinks. He would receive a thousand dollars as his monthly allowance, and the sunlit room would always b

My world fell apart over an encrypted link from the dark web. My husband, Don Marcello, was there on our marriage bed, pounding into another woman. All the top bosses in North America were watching. He held her in his arms, laughing about me. His fragile, naive little trophy wife who could never leave him. Even the live chat was a stream of insults. Calling me the useless wife who couldn't even get her husband into bed. But the worst part? The way he acted when I found out. He grabbed my chin. Told me the whole disgusting betrayal was just "an act to keep our allies happy." He even let his mistress brag about it to every socialite in the city. My humiliation became their afternoon entertain

Today, in front of everyone, you're going to apologize to her! The press section erupted. The livestream comments flooded in, all demanding that I beg Layla for forgiveness. I rose to my feet without a word and walked up to the stage. "You want me to apologize? Sure." Matthew immediately became wary. "What are you doing?" "Keeping my promise." I walked to the control console and pulled out the silver USB drive. "But before I apologize, let's all take a look at the hospital's original record of that terminal diagnosis." I plugged the USB drive into the computer.