Buntis Scandal の小説・ストーリー

"I'm sorry you and Theo had to deal with all this over the past few days." Jacklyn hugged him back, a relieved smile spreading across her face. "Everything's fine now." It didn't take long for Bianca's scandal to explode across the headlines. "Robertson Wannabe Bride Caught in Hotel Scandal With Boyfriend!" Each headline that followed was worse than the one before, piling disgrace upon disgrace. Lara kept refreshing her phone, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned white. The words on the screen burned her eyes, and the pounding in her temples only got worse.

"The world is going to go crazy for these designs." "I want them to," I said. "I want my name to be so big that he can't turn on a TV without seeing my face." Just then, Lilith ran into the room, holding her tablet. Her face was pale. "Hazel! Bryan! You need to see this," she cried, her voice trembling. I took the tablet. It was a news notification from a California business blog. The headline made my blood run cold. "Billionaire Damien Reyes Involved in Major Scandal: Claims Ex-Wife Stole Millions and Kidnapped His Unborn Heir."

The interview airs the next day, and the public reaction is immediate. The tabloids lit up with headlines. Such as… “Millicent Fires Back: Claims Bethany Worth Orchestrated Scandal!” “Millicent Atkinson Accuses Bethany of Manipulation, Sabotage and Loss of her Husband!” Social media explodes with reactions, many siding with Millicent, others defending Bethany. But the story has been set in motion, and there is no turning back now.

" There were a lot of errors with what Terry said to her, but Monique always believed him no matter what he said. Also, she'd been so blinded by anger lately and didn't even think things through before agreeing to Terry's proposition. And with that, a long article criticizing me and calling me out was posted online. My family business had always been a leader in the fashion industry, and my name was also part of the branding. There were also dozens of magazine articles and influencers who often discussed and praised me for my talent in fashion design. Unfortunately, I had thrown them all away with my own hands. I willingly let myself be caged up by Monique and even forbade myself from ever s

Her first move was subtle—an anonymous tip to a gossip columnist about Benedict’s past struggles with his company. She hinted at unethical practices, knowing it would spark speculation and scandal. Within days, headlines began to circulate: Benedict Thompson's Shady Business Dealings? While the claims were baseless, the damage was done. Investors grew uneasy, and whispers of doubt spread through the business world. Benedict reacted almost immediately, holding a press conference to dispute the rumors. "These claims are absolutely untrue," Benedict declared.

I’ve only been in the mansion for a while, but the little time I’ve spent observing its occupants was enough to tell that Angel Axton’s private businesses weren’t one anyone could discover so easily. “She’s an actress, love. They have their business on TV and socials all the fucking time. Their relationship wasn’t publicized, alright? But she had been caught in a relationship scandal on TV and not with Mr. Axton but a Casanova-faced younger actor that she’d had been playing in the sheets with. That Slut!.” “Careful!.” Kim warned and we giggled. Ursula’s lips curled and I heard the door open. Turning back, I almost choked on the rest of the juice in my glass. The girls were silent and I knew

(Sienna) My phone had forty-seven notifications. Then fifty-two. Then sixty, in the time it took me to process that number. The first thing I saw was a headline. SWIFT SCANDAL: Billionaire dumps bride at altar for her SISTER — and we have the receipts. Below it, grainy but unmistakable: a hotel corridor. A man pressing a woman against a wall. His hand in her hair. Her hands at his shirt. Me. Six weeks ago. Heathrow.

And yet, in a world full of masks and demands, he was the only one who ever offered her freedom. But was it too late? Her name was already being dragged through mud. The blogs were eating her alive—headlines she didn’t even want to read. “Billionaire Heiress in Phone Sex Scandal.” “Catherine Albury’s Fall From Grace.” “Cater’s Fiancée Touches Herself for Another Man.” The hashtags were brutal. #ScandalQueen #RuinedBeforeMarriage #Daddy’sDisgrace Every headline clawed at her skin.

The morning dawned in a storm of headlines. Charles was awake first—burning eyes, phone ringing incessantly on the nightstand. Curtains still drawn, but the light that seeped through was cutting and merciless. He reached for the phone, scrolling through messages, his jaw clenching tighter with each phrase. "Billion Foundation Handed Embezzlement Scandal." "Anonymous Source Alleges Fiona Generys' Scholarship Fund Was Laundered." "Insiders Say: Madam Jamaica Knew."

I sat at the bar, nursing my third whiskey, the ice clinking every time I swirled the glass. The place was loud but I barely heard it. I raked my fingers through my hair and pulled out my phone again, thumb scrolling through the trending tab even though I knew I shouldn’t. Every headline was about us. “Hazel Montgomery and Alan’s Sex Tape Scandal Rocks Billionaire Family.” “CEO Caught on Camera in Kinky BDSM Room – Company in Chaos.” I leaned forward, elbows on the sticky bar, and kept scrolling.