Chapter 52 The Media Blitz
The story broke at six a.m. across every major outlet simultaneously.
Billionaire Accused of Orchestrating Murders to Hide Embezzlement
Five Deaths, Forty Million Stolen: The James Winters Investigation
Frost Industries Heir Releases Evidence in Murder Case
Marcus had coordinated it perfectly, leaked documents to the Portland Tribune, the Oregonian, national outlets, and even streaming services working on true crime documentaries. By seven a.m., James Winters’ name was trending worldwide.
The evidence was damning and public: financial records showing the embezzlement, witness statements about intimidation, the BMW connection to Ethan’s death, Patricia Moreno’s testimony about her son, and David Chen’s original statement before he recanted.
Everything.
Ariella watched the coverage from the mansion’s living room, her mother beside her, both of them exhausted and wired. The news showed photos of Ethan, of Catherine Frost, and of the other victims. Real people with real families, reduced to headlines and soundbites.
“Is this what justice looks like?” Claire asked quietly.
“I don’t know. But it’s something.”
Aiden was fielding calls from lawyers, from board members, from FBI agents both congratulating and concerned about the document dump. His phone hadn’t stopped ringing since the story broke.
By eight a.m., protesters had gathered outside Winters’ building. By nine, his company’s stock had tanked. By ten, three major clients had publicly severed ties.
“It’s working,” Marcus said, watching the coverage. “He’s being crucified in the court of public opinion.”
“But will it hold up in actual court?” Ariella asked.
“Too early to tell. But the FBI is getting flooded with tips. People who worked for Winters, people who saw things, people who were too scared before but feel safer now that it’s public.”
Lily came in, looking worried. “Have you seen Twitter? People are threatening to kill him. Like, actual death threats.”
“That’s not what we wanted,” Aiden said immediately.
“But it’s what you got. You made him a villain. Now everyone wants to be the hero who takes him down.” She showed them her phone. The hashtag #WintersKiller was trending, with people posting violent fantasies about what should happen to him.
Ariella felt sick. “We wanted justice, not vigilante violence.”
“You wanted to burn him down,” Lily said. “Fire doesn’t discriminate.”
At noon, Winters’ legal team called a press conference.
Harrison Pierce stood at a podium, looking grim. “My client has been the victim of a coordinated smear campaign by parties with financial interests in destroying his reputation. The so-called evidence released today is a mix of fabrication, misrepresentation, and material taken out of context. We will be filing defamation suits against Frost Industries and everyone involved in this malicious attack.”
“Mr. Pierce, what about the witness statements?” a reporter called.
“Witnesses can be bought. Documents can be forged. My client maintains his innocence and looks forward to his day in court, where actual evidence not media speculation will determine the truth.”
“Is it true Mr. Winters has received death threats?”
“Yes. Multiple credible threats against his life. We’ve requested additional protection from local law enforcement.” Pierce’s voice hardened. “The Frost family has weaponized the media to turn my client into a target. They’re not seeking justice, they’re seeking revenge.”
The press conference ended, and social media exploded with debates. Half the internet saw Winters as a victim of a witch hunt. The other half wanted him hanged in the public square.
“This is getting out of control,” Aiden said, watching the chaos unfold.
Marcus agreed. “We need to put out a statement. Distance ourselves from the violent rhetoric.”
They drafted something quickly, a plea for calm, for trusting the legal system, for letting justice take its course. It felt hollow even as they released it.
By evening, the death threats had evolved into something worse.
Someone had posted Winters’ home address online. His GPS monitoring location updated every hour, showing exactly where he was. Groups were organizing on message boards, planning to “deliver justice” themselves.
“People are going to get hurt,” Claire said, watching the news. “Maybe not Winters, but someone. This mob mentality, is dangerous.”
She was right. At eight p.m., a group of twenty protesters tried to break into Winters’ building. Security stopped them, but not before three people were arrested and two were hospitalized.
Ariella’s phone rang. Unknown number. She almost didn’t answer.
“Miss Hayes.” Winters’ voice was ice. “Congratulations. You’ve successfully incited violence against me.”
“I didn’t…”
“You released information knowing it would create exactly this response. People are calling for my death. Threatening my staff. Attempting to break into my home. That’s on you.”
“You killed people. You don’t get to play victim.”
“I haven’t been convicted of anything. I’m innocent until proven guilty. But you’ve already convicted me in the media, haven’t you? Built your guillotine and invited the mob.” His voice was quiet fury. “Here’s what happens next. Someone tries to hurt me, and I defend myself. Legally. With witnesses and cameras and lawyers. And when the dust settles, you’ll be responsible for whatever violence comes.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a prediction. You started a war you can’t control. And wars have casualties.”
The line went dead.
Ariella’s hands were shaking. “He’s going to hurt someone and blame us for it.”
“He’s manipulating the situation,” Aiden said. “Turning himself into a victim. Making us look like vigilantes.”
“Because we are! We released all that evidence knowing it would destroy him. We wanted the mob.”
“We wanted justice…”
“We wanted revenge. And now innocent people are getting hurt because we couldn’t wait for the legal system to work.”
The argument that had been building all day finally erupted. They yelled at each other about strategy, about morality, about whether they’d gone too far. Marcus tried to mediate. Lily retreated to her room. Claire watched sadly as two teenagers who loved each other tore each other apart over choices that had no right answers.
Finally, exhausted, they both stopped.
“I’m sorry,” Aiden said. “You’re right. We lost control of this.”
“No, you’re right too. We couldn’t wait eight months while Winters picked us off. There was no good choice.”
“Just bad and worse.”
“And we picked worse.”
They sat in defeated silence.
At midnight, Marcus came in with news. “The FBI wants to meet tomorrow. They’re concerned about the media coverage compromising their investigation. And they want to discuss protective custody for all of you.”
“Protective custody?” Claire asked.
“Winters has received credible death threats. So have you. So have several witnesses. The FBI thinks separating everyone until trial might be safest.”
“Separating us where?” Ariella asked.
“Different locations. Different cities, possibly. You’d be safer apart than together.”
Ariella looked at Aiden. They’d fought to stay together through everything, the contract, the grief, the danger. And now the consequence of their choices might be separation anyway.
“Let’s hear what they have to say,” Aiden said finally. “Then we’ll decide.”
But they both knew: every choice they made carried weight they couldn’t predict. Every action had consequences that spiraled beyond their control.
They’d wanted to burn Winters’ empire down.
They hadn’t considered that they might burn themselves in the process.