Chapter 316
Nate, who had been waiting eagerly to watch Sharon crash and burn, stood there, mouth wide open in disbelief.
“What the hell… What’s going on?” he muttered. “Why are all these national news reporters treating Sharon like royalty? Have they lost their damn minds?”
The smile that had barely formed on Kelly’s lips froze, then disappeared completely. She stood there, stunned, unable to process what was happening right in front of her.
The flash of cameras lit the air in rapid bursts. The reporters closed in, their questions relentless, but the tone was unmistakable
-warm, even reverent.
Every question was wrapped in praise. Words like benevolent, selfless, beautiful inside and out filled the air.
A gossip reporter, unable to hold back, squeezed forward and snapped at one of the mainstream media reporters. “Hey, she’s covered head-to-toe in scandals. Don’t let her fool you!”
The network reporter shot him a look as cold as steel. “Those scandals are all fabricated, made up by people like you. We’re here to report on a philanthropist’s donation, not to peddle garbage. Watch your mouth-we’re live.”
The man’s voice dipped, heavy with warning. “And just so you know, any statement you make that damages someone’s reputation without evidence… you’ll be legally responsible for it.”
The gossip reporters stiffened, heads lowering as they hurriedly scrolled through their phones.
This wasn’t right.
The last thing they’d heard was that Sharon was blacklisted from the entire internet. Without clearance from above, any news about her couldn’t even be published. The system would block it automatically.
Except… her dirt? The hit pieces? Those were mysteriously allowed to spread like wildfire.
Her accounts were suspended. Her voice was silenced. She had no way to defend herself, no way to explain.
This was how the game was played when you crossed powerful capital. Silenced. Stripped of any platform to fight back.
And every gossip reporter here knew the unspoken rule: when the order came to dig dirt, you dug. If you couldn’t find any, you made it up.
It was understood. Sharon would never have a positive headline again. Not on any platform. Not unless someone powerful flipped the switch.
They’d come today thinking it was business as usual.
But now? Now, six of the top ten trending topics were about Sharon’s donations.
The realization hit them like a brick wall.
While they were busy orchestrating smear campaigns, the very same mainstream media they’d always secretly envied-those reporters who usually sneered down at them from their ivory towers-were circling Sharon with glowing praise.
It was the cruelest kind of irony.
Yes, they were just doing their jobs. Yes, it was for the money. But being slapped in the face this hard? Even they couldn’t pretend it didn’t sting.
Just then, a voice sliced through the buzzing chaos like a knife.
“If Sharon is really so kind-hearted,” the voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm, “why didn’t she donate anonymously?”
1/2
The square fell silent.
Every head turned toward the voice.
The gossip reporter stood there, chest puffed, smug, as though he’d just delivered some grand, undeniable truth.
“What’s wrong?” he sneered. “Hit a nerve, Sharon? Cat got your tongue?”
Sharon’s expression didn’t falter. No panic. No flinch. Just calm.
“Let me ask you something.” Her eyes met his, unwavering. “What do you think I’m trying to do?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “You’re doing it for hype. For fame.”
Sharon nodded slightly. “And tell me, if I want fame… what do you think I want it for?”
