Chapter 273: Chapter 273
Chapter 273
Maria Castellan sat alone on the edge of the leather armchair inside her massive glass-walled living room, watching the rain hit the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the estate grounds. On the low glass table in front of her lay three separate official police reports, all delivered by private couriers over the past six hours. Every single document came back with the exact same frustrating conclusion:
Ethan was nowhere to be found. Local law enforcement had swept every bus station, hospital, and low-end motel within a fifty-mile radius of Monterey, but nobody had seen a trace of her son. The lead detective had politely informed her that without new leads or CCTV hits, the active search grid was going cold.
Tears streamed down Maria’s face as she stared at the empty room around her, the cold silence of the massive house pressing down on her shoulders. She buried her face in her hands, letting out a ragged sob as she began talking aloud to herself in the empty space. “Where are you, my boy?” she wept, her voice trembling with raw, unbearable grief. “Please, Ethan, just come home to me. I don't care about your father's money, I don't care about the board, I just want you safe. Please, God, keep him alive out there.” She rocked back and forth on the couch, clutching her arms around herself as if trying to hold her own breaking heart together.
When the sheer powerlessness of sitting around waiting finally became too much to bear, Maria grabbed her smartphone off the coffee table with shaking hands. She opened her personal social media account, wiped the fresh tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, and set the phone upright against a heavy crystal vase. She hit the red record button, looking directly into the camera lens with swollen, red-rimmed eyes and hair pulled back in a loose, messy knot.
“If anyone out there is watching this, please, I am begging you as a mother,” Maria sobbed into the camera, her voice cracking with pure desperation. “My son, Ethan Castellan, is missing. He is severely injured, confused, and he needs urgent medical attention. If you have seen him anywhere near the docks, the highway, or the city borders, please call the authorities or contact me directly. Ethan, if you can see this video anywhere, please just come back home. I will protect you. Nobody is going to hurt you or lock you away again. I love you so much, please just come back to me.”
She hit stop, her hand shaking so violently that she almost dropped the device onto the rug. Without second-guessing her decision or running it past Richard's public relations team, she uploaded the raw, unedited video directly to her public profile, captioning it with a desperate plea for the masses to help track down her missing son.
Within less than an hour, the video blew up across every major social media platform, racking up millions of views as news outlets and gossip blogs reposted the tearful clip. But instead of the sympathy and community support Maria had so desperately prayed for, the internet responded with a tidal wave of ruthless mockery, bitter hate, and viral ridicule. The public, long weary of the ultra-wealthy Castellan family and energized by Sam Keystone’s sudden rise to power, turned Maria’s heartbreak into a sensationalized circus.
Sitting back on the sofa, Maria unlocked her screen and opened the comment section under her trending video. The flood of responses tore through her like sharp glass, revealing the cruel indifference of the public.
“Former billionaire family crying on camera now that their empire is crumbling? Karma is real!” one top-liked comment read.
“She wasn't weeping like this when her son was running around university acting like an untouchable god,” another user posted, earning thousands of retweets. “
“Aww, look at the billionaire mom shedding fake tears for her psycho son. Where was this energy when he was wrecking lives with his daddy’s money? Nobody cares, girl!”
“Is this lady serious right now? Your son literally terrorized people and belongs in a mental institution. Keep him off the streets, or the police will do it for you!”
“The rich only care about their kids when the stocks drop,” a third person mocked beneath a screenshot of Maria’s tear-stained face. “He’s probably hiding out on a private yacht somewhere enjoying his daddy’s leftover cash. Don’t waste police resources on these people!”
“Look at that fake house behind her,” another harsh comment said. “She’s not worried about her son; she’s worried about losing her high-society lifestyle now that the Castellans are officially broke.”
“Sam Keystone is the real king of Monterey now,” dozens of users spammed in the reply threads. “Ethan Castellan is just a spoiled brat who couldn't handle real competition. Let him stay lost.”
Maria scrolled through hundreds of similar messages, her chest heaving as the cruel words blurred before her eyes. The realization hit her with absolute, devastating clarity: the public wasn't going to help her, the police were bound by red tape, and Richard was only concerned with salvaging his remaining corporate reputation. Nobody in this city gave a damn if her son lived or died in a ditch.
She locked her phone screen and tossed it blindly onto the glass coffee table, where it slid across the polished surface and clattered against a crystal coaster. She pulled her knees up to her chest on the leather armchair, burying her face in her arms as a fresh wave of helpless tears soaked through her sleeves. The vast, luxurious living room felt completely hollow, its silent walls mocking her complete powerlessness as a mother.
Stumbling over to the built-in wet bar near the floor-to-ceiling windows, Maria reached with a trembling hand for an unopened bottle of aged scotch. She didn't bother grabbing a glass. She unscrewed the cap, tipped the bottle back, and took a long, burning gulp, coughing as the liquid seared down her throat. She sank down onto the cold tile floor right beside the cabinet, clutching the bottle against her chest while staring blankly out at the pouring rain. She took another heavy drink, letting the alcohol numb her racing thoughts as she wept softly in the dark room, entirely alone.