Chapter 317
The reporter blurted out without thinking, “Obviously, for the money.”
Sharon’s gaze stayed steady. “If I’m so obsessed with money,” she asked calmly, “why did I donate it? Money like this-I couldn’t finish spending it all in three lifetimes. Why wouldn’t I keep it for myself?”
The reporter froze, caught off guard, his mouth half open but no words coming out.
It was a good question. If she was after money, why give it all away? The logic didn’t hold.
But before the silence could stretch too long, another tabloid reporter stepped forward. “Sharon, from what I’ve found out, you didn’t even finish high school. You’re not some heiress, nor are you not a multimillionaire. How did someone like you even get that kind of money?”
His eyes narrowed. “There are rumors… rumors that you once pretended to be Carter Biggs’s wife. So, this money… it isn’t something you scammed off some man, is it?”
Sharon didn’t so much as blink. Her tone was still level and cool. “Then let me ask you,” she said, “what kind of scam could possibly bring in 100 million?”
The man sneered. “Well, scamming one man for 100 million is tough. But several men? Not impossible.”
A slow, smug smile curved at the edges of his lips, eyes gleaming with malice. “Come on, everyone knows men in love have negative IQ. And a woman like you-pretty, clever-it’d be so easy to bleed them dry.”
He tilted his chin. “So tell me, how else do you explain where that money came from?”
His words hit like a rock thrown into a still pond-sending shockwaves everywhere.
No high school diploma. No rich family background. And yet, she had 100 million.
It was the kind of thing that made people’s minds spiral.
Sharon’s gaze didn’t waver. She looked the man right in the eyes. “So what you’re saying is, if a woman is young, beautiful, and happens to have wealth… then that money must be dirty?”
The tabloid reporter’s breath caught. His confidence faltered.
He couldn’t say yes in front of this crowd. Not with all these cameras rolling. Admit that, and he’d basically be declaring war on every successful woman watching.
His eyes flicked around, scrambling. “That’s not what I’m saying,” he stammered. “I’m just questioning the source of your wealth. You owe the public an explanation, don’t you? If that money is dirty-what, you think doing charity with it suddenly makes it clean?
“Imagine it. A ‘great philanthropist’ who’s actually laundering dirty money. Isn’t that the biggest joke on earth?
“Sharon, unless you can prove that money came from a legitimate source… well, the police station’s right behind you. I suggest you turn yourself in.”
“Confess, and maybe people will go easy on you. Resist… and suffer the consequences.”
What he didn’t say was that just an hour ago, a text had popped up on his phone.
[Drag Sharon down in public-there’s five million in it for you.]
For that kind of payday, of course he was going all in.
The rest of the gossip reporters jumped on like sharks smelling blood. “Stop dodging the question! Either give us the truth, or
admit you faked it!”
“Seriously, a woman without even a high school diploma claiming she earned 100 million on her own?” one of them scoffed.” Does anyone here actually believe that?”
“If you can’t explain it,” another snapped, “we’re calling the cops. Right here, right now!”
