Chapter 158
Clio had lost any foothold in Seaside City. She was a pariah—universally despised.
But the storm didn't end there.
Two hours after Aaron's confession went live, Dean dropped his own payload—a chain of evidence so damning it was lethal.
After five years of being deceived, his faith utterly destroyed, Dean chose the most extreme form of retaliation.
He published everything Clio had ever boasted about to him in private, everything he'd witnessed firsthand—a complete record of her schemes against Hestia.
The evidence included transfer receipts and audio recordings of Clio bribing a kitchen servant at Hillside Villa to slip peanut powder into Gilbert's baby food.
There were full chat screenshots showing Clio's detailed plan to fake a fall on the staircase, then use anonymous accounts to post online accusations that Hestia had "pushed a pregnant woman" and "pushed her benefactor."
There was even a precise timeline of Clio paying off doctors to exaggerate her own condition every time Hestia fell ill—pulling Aaron away from Hestia's side on cue.
Dean's caption was a single line: [Clio is a demon from hell. Aaron and I were both her accomplices.]
---
Both sets of ironclad evidence fermented through the night, igniting a firestorm of public outrage.
Aaron sat in his pitch-dark office, the faint glow of a tablet the only light.
He read through Dean's evidence, matching each item against his own memory.
Every instance of sabotage corresponded to a punishment he'd inflicted on Hestia.
The nut allergy incident—he'd forced Hestia, burning with fever, to stand in the living room for three hours in front of the entire family while he pointed at her face and called her a viper.
The fake staircase fall—he'd grabbed Hestia by her sprained wrist and dragged her to Clio's bedside to bow in apology, then cut off every cent of her living expenses.
And countless times—Hestia alone in a hospital bed with an IV drip—he'd walked away without a backward glance the moment Clio called with another fabricated emergency, leaving Hestia to face cold, empty rooms by herself.
Aaron stared at the transfer records and the truth laid bare before him. His entire body shook violently.
What had he done?
For five years, he'd exploited Hestia's love for him—collaborated with a con artist to flay an innocent woman alive, cut by cut.
Every injustice Hestia endured. Every tear she shed. Behind each one was a knife he'd personally handed over.
"AHHH—"
Aaron hurled the tablet against the wall. His hands plunged into his hair and pulled. He curled into himself on the carpet, a sound tearing from his chest so desperate it barely sounded human. Regret burned through his organs like concentrated acid, so excruciating that every breath tasted of blood.
He finally understood the magnitude of what he'd done. The sin was unforgivable.
---
Across the city, Hestia sat at the dining table, a warm cup of black coffee in her hands.
Her tablet lay on the table, its screen showing the top headlines from both the financial and entertainment feeds.
Aaron's public confession. Clio's total disgrace. Dean's evidence of the frame-ups. Every trending topic belonged to this story.
The comment sections overflowed—people outraged on her behalf, people cursing Aaron and Clio in equal measure.
The truth and vindication that came five years too late had finally been laid bare for the world to see.
Hestia read through the coverage in silence.
Her fingertip glided across the screen. Not a ripple crossed her face.
When the damage was being done, she'd felt the pain. She'd known despair. But the wounds had long since scarred over and fallen away. Not even a mark remained.
Aaron's regret. Clio's downfall. To her, they were nothing more than two strangers' melodrama.
Hestia pressed the lock button. The screen went dark.
She took a sip of coffee, set the cup down, and walked toward the rehearsal room.
---
A cool night breeze stirred the air. The black Cullinan pulled smoothly to a stop in front of a Michelin-starred French restaurant downtown.
The valet stepped forward and opened the door.
William exited first, then turned and extended his hand toward the car.
Hestia placed her hand in his palm and stepped out.
Cecil hopped down from the other side, instinctively catching hold of Hestia's coat hem.
The three of them had barely reached the restaurant steps when a dark figure burst from behind a landscaped tree.
"Hestia!"
Aaron blocked the top of the staircase.
He was gaunt, unshaven, his once-tailored suit crumpled beyond recognition. His bloodshot eyes made him look like a junkie haunting the streets.
William's stride halted.
He shifted Hestia behind him, his gaze dropping to sub-zero in an instant.
Bodyguards materialized from all sides, ready to seize the intruder.
"William." Hestia raised her hand, pressing lightly against his forearm.
William turned his head to look at her.
"I'll handle it." Her voice was steady. "One last time."
William squeezed her hand in acknowledgment and signaled the guards to stand down. He took Cecil's hand and stepped back half a pace, giving her space—but his eyes never left Aaron, watchful as a predator guarding its own.
Hestia climbed the steps and stood before Aaron.
She looked down at the man who'd once towered above everyone in Seaside City.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice carried no inflection, as if addressing a stranger on the sidewalk.
Aaron's lips trembled. He looked at her face—still cool, still untouchable—and the crushing weight of regret hit him all over again. He stepped forward, reaching for her hand.
Hestia stepped back. She didn't let him touch her.
His hand froze in midair, then slowly curled into a fist.
"Hestia, I made everything public. Clio is finished. The misunderstandings have been cleared up." His voice was wrecked, thick with tears. "I know now. You saved me. You're the one I love. Come back with me. We can start over."
Hestia looked at him the way one watches a silent, absurd pantomime.
"Aaron, let it go." Every word was clear and precise. "Revealing the truth was something you owed me. It's not a bargaining chip for getting me back. There is no possibility left between us. None."
"Why not?" Aaron lost control, tears hitting the ground. "I'll change! Whatever you hate about me, I'll fix all of it! I'll sign over the Harvey Group shares to you—I'll do whatever you say from now on!"
Hestia didn't so much as furrow her brow. "Because I don't love you anymore. Even looking at you feels like a waste of my time."
That sentence was the final straw.
Aaron's knees gave out. He dropped—heavy and straight—onto the hard marble steps.
Diners entering and leaving the restaurant stopped to stare and whisper.
Aaron didn't care. He abandoned every last shred of pride, raised his hand, and slapped himself across the face with full force.
The crack of the slap cut through the night air, sharp and loud.
Half his face swelled instantly.
Then he raised his other hand and struck the opposite cheek.
"I was blind! I was garbage!" Aaron sobbed as he hit himself, over and over. "Hestia, I'm begging you—hit me, curse me, anything—just don't throw me away..."