Novel & Cerita Lindsey Shaw Leaked

I thought it was just more news about Cassian’s recovery or the investigation into the shooter. But when I opened my messages, chills ran down my spine. All I could see was a photo of me and Axel last night. His hand was on my face and my eyes were half-closed as we kissed. Every angle was perfect. Too perfect. Someone had been watching. Zade burst into the room a few minutes later, holding his phone, “Ava,” he said. “This was leaked from Cassian’s office.” I froze. “His assistant released it to the press,” Zade added.

She just hoped that Damon wouldn't find out about her secret friendship with Shannon and view her as someone like Shannon too. "Ms. York, there's no point of us working together anymore. I'm the biggest loser here after what happened this time. Something worse might even happen next time! From now on, we're better off parting ways," Leah said. To her surprise, Shannon snickered. "Ms. Sullivan, of course we can part ways. If you don't mind me sending our conversation history to Damon." "What are you talking about?" Leah was taken aback. "Nothing much. I've recorded all of our calls and have never deleted a single text on WhatsApp.

That revelation caused immediate pandemonium throughout the press conference venue, with a barrage of microphones and blinding flashes converging on Shawn. I had utterly ripped away his pretense, after all. Shawn stammered, "H-How did you find out about that, Leslie?" I offered no reply, choosing instead to turn and leave. The next day, the scandal dominated all social media platforms. "Shawn Jacobson's Infidelity and Shame: A Tycoon Who Rose on His Wife’s Support, Cheated with His Assistant and Got Her Pregnant."

“Would you tell the man trying to destroy your empire that the real enemy was still watching both of you?” Ava fell silent because she understood immediately. No. Lucas had protected himself first. Just like Adrian had. Everyone in this war kept choosing secrecy over truth. And now innocent people were paying the price. A sharp vibration interrupted the room. Elise looked down at her phone before her expression changed instantly. “Adrian.” He looked toward her. “Someone leaked internal Laurent Global records.” Ava’s stomach tightened immediately. “What records?” Elise swallowed once before turning the screen toward them.

I said, holding up my phone, "maybe they’ll listen to this." I dangled the device, the screen showing a recording interface. "I’ve been recording since the moment I smelled your perfume, Shelly. If this video of Lexi admitting to 'pulling strings' hits the pack-net, it’ll cause a bigger scandal than your leaked mating tapes." Lexi’s face went pale. Shelly lunged for the phone, but I stepped back, tucking it into my bag. "Don't bother. It’s already synced to a secure Vaughn—I mean, private—cloud server. Deleting it from the phone won't save you."

They had been covering the Sinclair-Maddox scandal since day one, posting every humiliating detail they could find. Liam opened his browser with hands that had started shaking and typed in the address. The site loaded, and there it was, plastered across the top of the page in huge red letters: "MADDOX HEIRESS CAUGHT ON RECORDING TAPE: 'I LEAKED THE VIDEOS MYSELF'" Below the sensational headline was a play button for an audio recording. Twenty-three minutes and forty-seven seconds long. "Fuck." The word came out like a prayer. Or maybe a curse. Hard to tell the difference anymore when your whole life was collapsing and rebuilding itself every other day.

Lately, the scandal involving him, Jacklyn, and Penelope had stayed front and center, especially with the mountain of evidence Jacklyn had put forward. Lloyd Group had moved fast to contain the damage, but a few incriminating photos had already slipped through. Every leaked message and image was a bombshell, which explained why the reporters were still digging for more.

They hit the floor in writhing silence—victims of their own plan. Shaw awoke first, groaning. I watched as each thug began to grope and scramble, their clouded senses turning them into pawns of their own lust. I stood at the window. Calm. Then I took photos—evidence for the world. Shaw’s phone, full of thigh-slapping video and Lilith’s name in the notorious “most recent contacts” list—proof of her involvement. I sent the photos to Lilith with a message: “They’re all dealt with. With these as leverage, you’ve got free toys for life.”

As I slid into Liam’s Rolls-Royce, I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—subtle, but unmistakably pleased. Only when I pulled out my phone did I realize the entire fiasco from the press conference was broadcast live. And now, it was trending. Under multiple hashtags, the comment sections were a warzone. "So, Linda stole credit for what that reporter did? That’s beyond shameless." "Stole credit? A woman who climbed the ladder by sleeping around—who’s to say who’s lying?" "Fact-checked—the so-called explicit photos were edited."