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@ ODILI ONUOHA
2025-05-14 05:23:35CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"I’ve got something you’ll love. A woman, probably James’s sister from the street, came begging for money at JP today. He humiliated her. The whole thing happened in front of staff. Check the photos attached. This could ruin him if we spin it well."
Within minutes, Helen replied: “Excellent. This might be the leverage we’ve been waiting for. Keep digging, Tracy. He can’t escape the past forever.”
Mark responded too, bitter laughter echoing in his voice note: “The mighty always fall. This is just the beginning.”
But what none of them knew was that James had already noticed Tracy's growing interest in him, her subtle spying, her conveniently timed questions, and now this bold move to document his personal confrontation. He wasn’t going to act just yet… but he was watching.
"Have you seen the news?" Sandra’s voice crackled through the phone, her tone urgent and unsettled.
James, seated in his office at JP Enterprises, furrowed his brows. He hadn’t turned on the television yet. "No. What happened?"
"You need to check the headlines immediately. It’s everywhere. They’ve dragged your name through the mud!"
Without another word, James reached for the remote and turned on the large flat-screen mounted on his office wall. The screen lit up with a news report, the broadcaster’s voice sharp and sensational.
“Shocking footage surfaces: JP Enterprises’ President humiliates his only sister in broad daylight!”
Photos of James and Evelyn outside the company played in a dramatic sequence him confronting her, her being escorted out, and his seemingly cold expression. The captions twisted the story:
“Heartless Billionaire?” “President throws out helpless sister for asking money” “The shameful side of JP Enterprises’ leader exposed!”
James leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he watched.
"This is calculated," he muttered under his breath. "Scripted. Twisted."
He turned off the screen and called Sandra back. "I want Tracy's devices checked. Every message, every image. And I want a full trace on the origin of this story. Media outlets don’t run this kind of narrative without a source."
"You think Tracy’s behind it?" Sandra asked, her voice low.
"She took the pictures, I’m sure of it. But she’s not working alone," James replied, voice steely. "This is too well-planned for one person. They’re trying to frame me, twist reality, and attack my image. And I’ll make sure every single one of them is exposed."
Meanwhile, at a discreet location, Mark, Helen, and Tracy gathered to watch the fire they had ignited. Tracy grinned as she scrolled through social media posts and reactions.
"It’s gone viral," she said gleefully. "Everyone thinks that woman’s your sister. It’s everywhere on blogs, gossip pages, even official news networks. The damage is done."
Mark chuckled darkly. "This will shatter his reputation. Let’s see how he enjoys being publicly hated."
Helen, sipping her wine with a satisfied look, added, "It’s only the beginning. Let’s push this narrative harder. We’ll make sure the board at JP Enterprises starts questioning his character."
But little did they know James had already activated his private investigative team. Every file, every message, every trail was being traced.
Back at JP Enterprises, James stood by the window of his office, watching the skyline, his hands in his pockets.
"They want a war?" he said to himself quietly. "Then I’ll give them one. But on my own terms."
His phone buzzed. A message from his chief of cyber-security read:
“We’ve located the media contact. Payment traced to a dummy account linked to Helen Ray.”
James stared at the screen, his jaw tightening.
The day of the much-anticipated 16th Anniversary of JP Enterprises finally arrived, cloaked in glamour, prestige, and tension. The event venue, a grand luxury hall draped in velvet and golden decor, radiated elegance and opulence. Bright lights illuminated the red carpet, and camera flashes sparked like lightning as influential business magnates, city officials, and esteemed guests from far and wide began to pour in.
Among the prominent guests were Helen Ray, Mark, Tracy, and other members of the Ray family. Dressed in designer gowns and tailored suits, they mingled with high society, laughing and sipping champagne, their polished facades hiding the scheme they had carefully orchestrated for the night.
The hall buzzed with anticipation for the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. JP, the founders of the JP Empire. Meanwhile, in a secluded corner of the hall, Helen leaned towards Mark, whispering with a smirk, “She’s on her way. Get ready for the show.”
The “she” Helen referred to was Evelyn, the same woman they had bribed to once again impersonate James’s sister and stir public humiliation. This time, it wouldn’t just be a few photos, they wanted a scandal of epic proportions, a scene so chaotic and public that it would crumble James’s standing in the business world for good.
As guests chatted and live music flowed through the air, James entered the hall in a pristine black tuxedo, exuding power and poise. He walked beside his uncle Charles and his loyal staff, warmly greeting dignitaries and longtime associates. His presence commanded attention, but murmurs soon rippled through the crowd.
Whispers filled the air like wind in dry grass:
"That’s the man from the headline, isn’t he?" "They say he threw his own sister out for asking for help." "Such cruelty… and yet here he is, smiling like a saint."
As James navigated through the crowd with measured grace, Helen sauntered over, her heels clicking on the marble floor, her expression dripping with sarcasm.
“Well, well, if it isn’t our gallant President,” she began, feigning admiration. “I must say, you clean up well for someone who was just exposed in the most shameful news of the year.”
James turned to her with a calm but unreadable gaze. “Helen,” he greeted curtly.
She chuckled. “You really should be more careful with family matters. The public has a long memory, you know.”
Before James could reply, a loud voice broke through the soft music. “James! James! You left me with nothing!”
All heads turned toward the entrance, where Evelyn stumbled in, her appearance carefully staged to look disheveled and distraught. She weaved through the crowd, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at the air as security hesitated to intervene.