Chapter 187 Press Conference: The Reckoning
That week, River City was consumed by a story that gripped the entire city.
On Wednesday at noon, Vaughn, chairman of the Williams Group, fell overboard from a cruise ship and vanished into the sea. For two days straight, police teams scoured the waters, dragging nets and scanning every possible current, but no trace of him was found. The news exploded online, dominating headlines and social media feeds.
Vaughn was widely regarded as one of River City's most principled entrepreneurs. Under his leadership, The Williams Group had been the first to donate funds and supplies whenever the nation faced a crisis. For years, his name had been synonymous with integrity and generosity. His sudden disappearance sent a shockwave through the public.
Survival after such an accident was already a slim possibility. Vaughn could swim, but he was in his sixties. Even if he had managed to stay afloat for a while, how long could an older man's strength hold out against the cold, relentless sea?
On the first night, people clung to hope, whispering about miracles. By the second day, most had resigned themselves to the grim reality: finding his body would be the best outcome they could wish for. By Friday night, Vaughn's absence still dominated the trending list on Ins. The authorities had yet to declare him dead, but everyone knew the truth.
Across River City, feeds filled with the flicker of white and black candles. People who had never met him typed out quiet prayers, sending Vaughn off into whatever lay beyond.
That same Friday evening, Vaughn's granddaughter and current CEO of The Williams Group, Anna, finally appeared outside the company's headquarters. It was the first time she had faced the press since her grandfather's accident.
The moment she stepped out of the car, the reporters who had been camped outside surged forward. Microphones were thrust toward her face, questions fired in rapid succession.
"Ms. Williams, has Vaughn been confirmed dead? Has his body been recovered?"
"Ms. Williams, what impact will Vaughn's accident have on the future of The Williams Group?"
"Ms. Williams, with Vaughn gone, will you be taking over as the new head of the company?"
"Ms. Williams, it's said Vaughn adored his only grandson, Quentin. Did he leave any special arrangements for him?"
The official death notice hadn't been issued, yet the reporters were already speaking in terms of "the body" and "before his death." Any granddaughter who truly cared for her grandfather would have bristled at such questions, maybe even walked away in outrage.
But Anna simply lifted her hand, removed her sunglasses, and revealed a face that was carefully made up to look pale and drawn. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her voice husky.
"Regarding my grandfather," she said, "I will not be making any statements tonight. Tomorrow at noon, I will hold a press conference at The Williams Group. You can ask your questions there."
Without another word, she turned and walked into the building, as if grief had drained her of the strength to speak.
In the apartment, Amelia's brows drew together as she watched Anna's performance. She reached for the remote and switched off the television.
Michael leaned over from the couch, picking up a slice of watermelon from the fruit plate. He brought it to Amelia's lips, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.
Michael's voice was low, his tall frame relaxed despite the expensive black trousers now wrinkled beneath Amelia's weight. His eyes held a warmth that softened the room, the two of them sitting close enough to feel each other's heartbeat.
"I'm furious for Mr. Williams," Amelia said after biting into the watermelon, her gaze hardening with cold resolve. "I thought that even if Anna had done something this monstrous, she might still feel some guilt. But now it's clear - she's no different from Rachel. Selfish, cold-blooded, without limits. For profit, she'll throw away family and principle alike."
Her voice softened, tinged with sadness. "I just feel sorry for Mr. Williams. For over twenty years, he treated her as his most precious granddaughter, pouring his heart into raising her. He lived with honesty and kindness, respected by all… and yet he nearly died at her hands."
Michael's expression hardened. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Don't worry. Vaughn values character and family honor above everything. Anna has crossed a line he will never forgive, and he won't let it be buried."
And Michael was right. This time, the advantage was theirs.
On Wednesday night, Amelia had examined Michael's grandmother and found her only mildly malnourished, with no serious health complications. By Thursday morning, she had woken from her deep sleep. But her Alzheimer's left her unable to recognize Michael or understand where she was, making normal conversation impossible.
Amelia contacted Trevor's team, and Professor Lewis personally dispatched staff to bring the grandmother to the research institute, promising to design a tailored treatment plan. Michael also sent two professional caregivers from the Johnson family to assist.
As for Scarface and his crew - they were being held by Michael, stripped of their phones and any means of communication.
Over the past few days, Efrain had called Scarface's phone countless times. Michael hadn't turned it off, but he never answered, letting the calls ring until Efrain hung up in frustration. Missing the agreed time and place, unable to reach his men, Efrain was spiraling, searching everywhere for Scarface's whereabouts.
With his greatest bargaining chip gone, Amelia was curious to see how he planned to keep his game going.
By Saturday noon, Anna's press conference was set to begin at The Williams Group's first-floor multimedia hall. Michael arrived before 11:30, but the venue was already swarming with reporters.
Dressed in a tailored black suit, his sunglasses hiding his eyes but not the sharp lines of his face, Michael moved with quiet efficiency, slipping toward the conference room without drawing attention.
He was only steps from the door when a heavy thud echoed from inside, followed by a man's furious roar.
"Useless! All of you are useless! I told you to find someone, and after three days you still can't? What the hell am I paying you for?!"
Michael's brows lifted slightly. He glanced at Eric, who immediately understood and stepped forward to push the door open.
The hinges creaked softly. Inside, Efrain spun around, ready to shout at whoever dared interrupt him - until he saw Michael standing in the doorway.
"Looking for someone?" Michael asked, his posture straight, his tone cool and even. "Who is it you can't find, Uncle? Would you like me to arrange a team to help you look?"