Chapter 6 - The Tabloid Ambush
Victoria and Eleanor, humiliated by their failure at the gala, realized that attacking Clara in private was useless. Julian would always defend her. They needed to destroy her publicly. They needed to make her a liability to the company.
Two days later, the front page of the New York Post and every major gossip blog across the globe dropped a bombshell article.
THE BILLIONAIRE'S DIRTY SECRET: CEO'S NEW BRIDE HIDING THREE ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN.
The article was vicious. It claimed Clara was a master manipulator, a former "working girl" from the backwoods of West Virginia who had trapped Julian Vance with her illegitimate offspring. It featured grainy, zoomed-in photos of Leo, Sam, and Mia playing in the gardens of the estate.
But the worst part was the fabricated quote from an "anonymous hometown source," claiming Clara had abandoned the children to the foster system years ago, only retrieving them when she realized she could use them to secure Julian's fortune.
Clara woke up to her phone vibrating off the nightstand. She read the article and felt the world collapse. She ran to the bathroom and vomited.
Julian found her on the bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
"They posted pictures of them, Julian," Clara wept, clutching her stomach. "They posted pictures of the kids. They're calling them bastards. I have to leave. I have to take them and leave before they ruin your company."
"No," Julian said, his voice devoid of all warmth. It was the voice of a man preparing for war. He picked her up off the floor. "You are my wife. You are not running anywhere."
Julian's phone rang. It was the Chairman of the Board.
"Julian," the Chairman said gravely. "The stock is taking a hit. Investors don't like scandal. You need to release a statement distancing yourself from the girl, or the board is going to call for a vote of no confidence."
"Call the vote," Julian said coldly.
"Excuse me?"
May you like
"Call the damn vote," Julian snarled. "Because I'm calling an emergency press conference at noon. And if the board wants to stand against me, they can pack their bags."
He hung up, turning to Clara. "Get dressed, my love. We are going to New York."
