The moment she saw Jack, Queenie knew that something was terribly wrong. Her voice turned cold as she shouted, "Jack, you are no longer an employee of the group. Please leave immediately!"
Jack sneered. "Well, Miss Yeats, are you so eager to drive me away because you're afraid I'll expose your dirty little secrets?"
Queenie's eyes narrowed in fury. "I'm honest and upright. I won't let you drag my name through the mud. What you're talking about has nothing to do with today's press conference, so leave now!"
"Ha-ha! You'll understand once I'm finished speaking," Jack said, his sneer deepening.
A reporter chimed in, "Mr. Lewis, can you tell us the details?"
Suddenly, all the cameras swung toward Jack. No one paid any more attention to Queenie Group's new product launch.
"Of course," Jack said, his tone theatrical. "I came here today to rip off Queenie Yeats's hypocritical mask. I want everyone to see just how ugly her heart really is."
He cleared his throat dramatically before continuing.
"My name is Jack Lewis. I used to be the HR Manager of Queenie Group. I've worked tirelessly in this company for over ten years…"
"It's no exaggeration to say that I, Jack Lewis, played a major role in Queenie Group's success."
"Now the company is about to be listed. I should feel proud. I should feel like all my years of hard work have finally paid off. But instead…"
"This woman—Queenie Yeats—burned the bridge after crossing it. Just to elevate her toy boy, she threw me, a loyal and senior contributor, out of the company!"
"Tell me, is that fair?"
Jack's voice thundered through the room.
The reporters erupted in murmurs, their expressions shifting. Their gazes toward Queenie were no longer admiring—they were condemning.
"She's so beautiful, but I never expected her to be this cruel!"
"How can a company like this go public? It deserves to collapse!"
Queenie's face turned pale.
"Jack, stop spreading lies!" she said, trying to maintain her composure. "You colluded with Beauty Group. You should be grateful I didn't have you arrested. Now you stand here accusing me? Have you no shame?"
"Colluded with Beauty Group? Queenie, where's your evidence?"
"That day in your office, didn't you admit to it?" she snapped. "Now you're asking for proof? What a joke!"
Jack pointed at the crowd, shouting, "Tell me, everyone—if someone betrayed their company, would they admit it publicly? Do you think I'm that foolish?"
The crowd shook their heads. Of course not. No traitor would confess so openly.
"My brother Sam is the one who's truly been wronged," Jack continued, gesturing toward a man in a wheelchair.
Sam wheeled forward as cameras swiveled to capture him.
"He used to be Queenie's driver. He was the first to discover that she kept a toy boy," Jack said indignantly. "And because he tried to talk sense into her, she had him beaten half to death!"
Sam lifted a medical diagnosis and gritted his teeth.
"This is from the hospital," he said. "I suffered a comminuted fracture of my right wrist and a torn knee ligament."
Boom!
It was as if a bomb had exploded. The press conference erupted in chaos.
"This is outrageous! How could she do that?!"
"A woman like this still dares to stand onstage? Get off!"
"Queenie must give us an explanation! We want justice for Mr. Harts and Mr. Lewis!"
The uproar was deafening. Public opinion turned sharply and violently against Queenie.
Her voice trembled. "Jack, you said I promoted a toy boy and had your brother beaten. Where's your proof? Show me the evidence!"
It was all she could do now—demand evidence.
Jack smirked and remained silent.
Just then, a middle-aged man in the front row stood up.
"I have something to say."
It was Tim Jackson, the current HR Manager of Queenie Group. Under Jack, he had once been a deputy.
"I can prove that what Jack is saying is true."
A collective gasp followed. Everyone had expected him to defend Queenie. Instead, he took Jack's side.
"Tim…" Queenie's voice cracked. "What are you talking about?"
"Miss Yeats, don't pretend to be innocent."
"Everyone in the company knows you tried to give the manager position to that toy boy. You were only forced to appoint me because of external pressure."
With that, Tim pulled off his employee badge and threw it onto the floor. "I want no part of this."
Boom!
Queenie trembled violently. But before she could regain her composure, the conference room door slammed open.
Karl Holland, heir of the powerful Holland family, strode in—followed by Gary Williams.
"Mr. Jackson, you made the right choice," Karl declared. "A woman like Queenie isn't worthy of your loyalty. If you ever need a job, our company welcomes you."
Karl's arrival sent another shockwave through the room. Everyone knew that the Holland family was Queenie Group's biggest partner—and Karl had always been enamored with Queenie. Why had he turned on her?
Then it dawned on them—he must've found out about the so-called toy boy.
Karl grabbed the mic from a stunned reporter and said, "As of today, I'm cutting all ties with Queenie Group."
He turned to Gary. "Don't you have something to say? Go ahead."
Gary's eyes glinted with malice as he took the microphone. Mr. Holland will pay off my gambling debts, he thought. So don't blame me, Queenie. You were the one who betrayed me first.
"My name is Gary Williams. I grew up at Sunshine Welfare Center, just like Queenie. So I know exactly what kind of person she is. She bullied other children constantly—including me."
Gary twisted the truth, blaming Queenie for all the misdeeds of his own past.
"But let's not dwell on childhood. Recently, our old director Mr. Wodehouse became gravely ill and needed a lot of money for treatment. I went to Queenie for help—many times. I even knelt and begged."
"And what did she do? She mocked me. Called me a scoundrel and told me to get lost."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
It was the stillness before the storm.
Then all at once, fury exploded.
"You're a disgrace, Queenie!"
"You heartless witch! You don't deserve to live!"
"As a woman, I feel ashamed because of you!"
"Go to hell, Queenie! Hell!"
The vicious insults slammed into her like hail. Queenie's body trembled, and tears streamed down her face.
"No, that's not true. None of what he said is true…"
She shook her head desperately, her dress soaked with tears. But no one listened.
They had already convicted her in their hearts. She was ungrateful. She was ruthless. She was shameless.
"Amy Gibson"—Queenie looked toward her long-time friend—"even you…"
Amy sneered. "I was blind to trust you, Queenie. I've been your sister for so long and never realized what a monster you are."
With that, she ripped off her employee badge and hurled it at the ground. "I'm ashamed to have worked with someone like you!"
The string of betrayals shattered Queenie. No matter how strong she was, she couldn't withstand this storm.
Her vision darkened. Her knees buckled. And she fainted.
But before her body could hit the floor, a figure dashed out from backstage and caught her.
With eyes blazing, the man shouted to the stunned room—
"None of you can escape responsibility today!"