Chapter 6: The Truth Goes Viral

Just as she said, the internet was full of hate for me. No one would believe anything I said. So, I wouldn’t release the recording online. But I could send it to one person—Mrs. Walsh.

I opened my laptop, found her email, and attached the audio file. My hands shook, but I hit send.

I emailed the recording to her. She replied quickly: “Thank you. Now I know who he was protecting.”

Her message was short, but I could feel her anger through the screen. I knew she’d handle it.

As soon as I finished, my oldest brother called.

He sounded calm, collected, like always. “Don’t worry, little sis—I’ll handle this. Daniel Walsh is finished.” Of course. Leave it to my brother to fix everything. “He’s just a minor shareholder at Reed Holdings, which belongs to our family. He’s never met you because you avoid business parties.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for my family’s support.

“Big brother, just take care of Daniel. I’ll handle the rest.”

He laughed, proud. “You’ve grown up. Go for it—we’ve got your back. Mom and Dad are worried, but I’ll calm them down. Grandma hasn’t seen the news, so don’t worry.”

I smiled, feeling lighter. With my family behind me, I could face anything.

“By the way, send me Mrs. Walsh’s contact info.”

I forwarded it, knowing he’d take care of things quietly.

After I sent the recording, Carter called.

He didn’t waste time with small talk. “You okay?” As soon as he arrived, he hugged me tight. “Don’t be scared.”

He smelled like cedar and sunshine, grounding me. I leaned into him, grateful.

“I’m not that fragile,” I teased. “Between the two of us, who’s more scandal-prone? You look worse than I do.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Heartless.”

He squeezed my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.

“Seriously, the paparazzi say the photos are from three days ago, but you were with me in Montana. Should I post a statement?”

He was ready to go to war for me. I smiled, shaking my head.

“No need. Let’s go big—hold a press conference.” I winked.

I loved his confidence. He grinned, already planning our outfits.

“Whatever you want, I’m with you.”

He kissed my forehead, and I felt brave again.

I posted on Instagram: “The truth will be revealed at today’s 3 p.m. press conference.”

The comments exploded. Some people still hated, but others started to wonder if there was more to the story.

Within minutes, the post had thousands of comments. Most were still hate, but some people were waiting for a twist.

Zoe called, promising to handle logistics. She was a lifesaver.

I didn’t go through the agency—Zoe helped me set up the event. That afternoon, Carter accompanied me to the press conference. The place was packed with reporters.

The conference room was standing-room only. Cameras flashed, microphones thrust in our faces. Carter squeezed my hand under the table.

Before anyone could ask questions, we took the lead.

I cleared my throat, meeting the reporters’ eyes. Carter spoke first.

Carter held my hand and faced the crowd. “Brooke is my girlfriend. Come on, between me and Daniel Walsh, who do you think she’d pick?”

A ripple of laughter ran through the room. The tension eased, just a little.

Obviously, Daniel was just a minor shareholder, while Carter was the sole heir to Reed Holdings—and he was young, handsome, and over six feet tall.

The reporters glanced at each other, some smirking. The story was already shifting.

A reporter pressed, “You two haven’t known each other long. Maybe she was with Daniel before you?”

The question hung in the air. Carter didn’t flinch.

Carter replied, “Hold on—we’ll show all the evidence.”

He gestured to Zoe, who cued up the slides. The photos told the whole story.

We presented proof we’d been traveling in Montana for a month, only returning yesterday.

There were time-stamped selfies, plane tickets, and even a video of us roasting marshmallows under the stars.

Most importantly, Zoe had tracked down the original paparazzi and bought the unedited photos for a hefty price. When we showed the real images, the room was stunned. It was obvious who was really with Daniel—Madison.

The reporters gasped, some covering their mouths. Madison’s face was unmistakable.

One of her paid reporters protested, “Who’s to say which set is edited?”

He tried to argue, but the evidence was overwhelming.

I smiled. “Any photo expert can spot the edits.”

I handed out copies of the originals, daring anyone to challenge me.

Just then, my brother texted: “Check Instagram.”

I glanced at my phone, grinning. The timing was perfect.

I took the mic. "Even if I wasn’t with Carter, I’m not anyone’s mistress. I’ve never lacked for money. Check Reed Holdings’ official Instagram."

The reporters scrambled for their phones. A buzz filled the room as everyone checked the latest post.

Reporters immediately checked their phones. Reed Holdings had just posted two statements:

First: Daniel Walsh has sold his shares and is no longer on the board.

Second: Anyone who slanders our heiress, @Brooke Lane, will soon receive a court summons.

The press conference was short but caused a sensation.

As we left, the cameras flashed like fireworks. Carter squeezed my hand, whispering, “Told you we’d win.” For once, I believed him.

The internet went wild:

“Wow, the real clown is Madison. How dare she post such badly photoshopped pics?”

“Madison the homewrecker, get out of showbiz!”

“Mrs. Walsh, punish that woman!”

“Wait, Brooke is Reed Holdings’ heiress? What a plot twist!”

“Is she the Brooke from Brooke’s Wonderland?”

“The one who got an amusement park for her sixth birthday? The family favorite?”

“A minor shareholder tries to frame the heiress? Daniel Walsh must have a death wish!”

...

People were shocked by my identity, shipped me and Carter, and roasted Madison. Overnight, her reputation hit rock bottom.

My phone buzzed nonstop with messages of support, memes, and even a few job offers.

Our agency’s CEO personally apologized and brought the top agent, begging me not to quit, promising the best contract and resources. I refused—this world wasn’t for me.

I smiled politely, shook his hand, and walked away. For the first time, I felt truly free.