He was constantly buried in work, running from meeting to meeting, and sometimes he barely exchanged a word with Dames in an entire day.
As for whether Selene had ever mistreated his son, Harrison honestly had no idea,
He had, however, heard from his own mother that Dames once complained Selene fed him “slop fit for pigs.”
Gemma never missed a chance to criticize Selene’s cooking, insisting it was utterly unpresentable.
In her own words, “You bring that to the table, and people will laugh you right out of the room! I can’t even look at it!”
Selene’s hometown recipes, to the high society of the Capital Circle, really might as well have been pig feed.
Over the phone, Secretary Burnett sounded overwhelmed with emotion.
“Mr. Vaughn, your name has finally been cleared! The vast majority of people online are now on your side!”
Harrison couldn’t be bothered to check what the internet was saying.
“From now on, anything about Selene, or whatever people are saying about her online–don’t bother calling to update me.”
They were already divorced. Whether Selene lived or died had nothing to do with him anymore.
Just then, a surprised exclamation came through his phone.
“Mr. Vaughn!” Secretary Burnett sounded stunned. “All the trending topics smearing Miss Thompson have just been wiped clean!”
Harrison’s first thought was that Selene had paid to have the trending topics
removed.
But then he remembered–her $8 million assets had been frozen.
She couldn’t possibly afford such a thing.
He opened Twitter and saw that every negative thread about Selene now displayed
a notice: “Content unavailable due to relevant legal provisions.”
A ripple of surprise crossed his usually impassive gaze.
Someone with serious Influence had stepped in, forcing the Twitter staff to erase the trending stories immediately.
That was the only way the online criticism of Selene could have disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Someone was helping her.
Harrison’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t help but wonder–who?
Adrian?
In a serviced apartment, Selene was at the sink, washing dishes, the sound of rushing water filling the small kitchen.
She and Daph had just finished dinner. Daph was standing on a chair, diligently wiping down the dining table with a cloth.
Selene’s phone, resting on the table, began to ring. The caller ID was unknown.
“Mommy!” Daph called out, but Selene didn’t hear her.
So Daph pressed the answer button herself.
“Hello? My mommy’s washing the dishes right now…”
Her soft, childish voice was abruptly cut off by a cold laugh from the other end of
the line.
“Selene, the whole internet is tearing you apart! Have you seen how popular my son is now? The Vaughn Enterprises official Twitter inbox is filled with women begging to become the next Mrs. Vaughn!”
“…Mrs. Vaughn…”
Daph instinctively wanted to call out “Grandma,” but caught herself–she needed to change the way she addressed her now.
Hearing Daph’s voice, Gemma took a moment to react, then scoffed, disdainful.
“Daphne! You ungrateful brat!”
“My name is Dafina,” Daph replied seriously.
“Dames is famous now, did you see? Your father will soon marry a proper heiress–someone truly worthy of our family. Dames will finally have a mother from real high society!
Daphne, out of consideration for the Vaughn blood running through your veins, I’ll give you one last chance.
You come forward and tell the reporters all about how Selene mistreated you!”
Daph was about to reply when Selene walked over.
“Ms. Yates, I know you’re blunt, but that doesn’t mean you can just blurt out whatever comes to mind.”
Gemma shrieked through the phone. “Selene! Are you insulting me? I’m recording this, you know! I’ll make sure Harrison hears just how low–class you really are!”
Selene picked up the phone and tapped to start a video call, so Gemma could see her face.
She turned the camera to her laptop screen.
“Ms. Yates, do you see this?”
Gemma slipped on her reading glasses, squinting until she could make out the words on Selene’s computer: “National Government Portal.”
Calm and unhurried, Selene filled out the online form as she spoke.
“These past seven years, I’ve gathered plenty of evidence that could ruin your reputation, Ms. Yates. I’d start saying goodbye to your Triumphia Honors title in Capital City if I were you.”
