Chapter 121 121

Chapter 121 121
CHAPTER 121

THE DAY THE WORLD COLLAPSED

ALEXANDER

The words on the screen blurred and refocused in my, but as much as I wanted them to change, they didn't.

ALEXANDER MOREAU ACCUSED OF SEXUAL ASSAULT BY EX-WIFE.

What the fuck is this!?

I stared at the headline, my blood almost instantly turning to ice. The newscaster's voice droned on, spitting allegations spanning our marriage, police sources confirm, the foundation in turmoil. But I couldn't hear the words, I could only see the letters.

And it was black… bold… and accusing.

My eyes caught a sudden movement and moved to Isabella. Her face was pale, her lips parted and her hands gripped the edge of the couch so hard I feared for the couch.

The horror in her expression was worse than the headline And it was caving depths in my chest.

"Dad." Camille's voice pulled my gaze. She was standing now, her face white, her hands shaking. "Dad, what is this?"

I couldn't answer. I mean… none of these made any sense. Elise stood in the door way in her cream dress and perfect hair. She was smiling like she had just come from brunch and not from destroying my life.

"Mum." Camille turned to her. "What did you do?"

Élise tilted her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The news is literally playing on the television!" My voice came out sharp and ragged as I pointed at the screen. "Don't stand there and play dumb."

Her smile didn't waver. "Oh, that." She shrugged. "I did what I had to do."

I moved, my legs carrying me toward her before my brain could catch up. The anger was beginning to blind me as my hate for this woman increased by the second.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I barked, closing the distance between us. "Why do you enjoy contorting lies against me. You—"

"Don't take another step." Her voice switched into something cold and dangerous. Her smile vanished.

I stopped, not because she told me to. But because something in her eyes warned me she had more. Right now, she was holding the gun and I was standing in the crossfire.

"I never touched you," I said through gritted teeth. "You know that. I would never—"

"Never?" She laughed, the ugly sound bouncing off the walls. "You have a short memory, Alexander. Last night. Your room. Your hands on me." She pulled out her phone. "Maybe this will jog your memory."

She typed on her screen before turning the screen towards us.

The video was grainy, suggesting it was shot in low light. But there was no mistaking what it showed. Me… on top of Elise… my hips moving and my head buried in her neck. My bare ass was even exposed to the camera.

The room spun.

Isabella made a sound, something that sounded like a small, broken gasp. I turned to see her sway, her hand reaching for the back of the couch before her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the cushions, her face ashen with her eyes fixed on the screen.

Élise glanced at her, a smirk stretching on her lips. Then looked back at me. Camille was frozen, her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide, wet and completely horrified.

"Camille—" I reached for her.

She stepped back. "Don't."

"Sweetheart, I can explain—"

"Explain what?" Her voice cracked. "Explain how you could do this to Mum? A human being like yourself?" She shook her head, realising her gaze to the ceiling, then back at me. "I hate you."

The words hit like a blade right through my gut. She turned and walked, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

I turned to Élise. "You lying bitch."

"See you in court, Alexander." She walked out, her heels clicking on the marble, the door swinging shut behind her.

My phone started vibrating in my pocket. Then again. And again. A cascade of notifications, emails, calls. I didn't pull it out, what was the need. It's just a sign of everyone who had been waiting for me to fall.

I looked at Isabella and her gaze was lost in space. I turned and walked out, finding my way to my room. I found my way to the mini bar again and grabbed a bottle of alcohol and drank.

How can a bitch drug and frame so effortlessly!? FUCK!!

I didn't sleep and my phone kept buzzing all night.

At dawn, I showered, changed and walked out of the house without looking back. The drive to the office was a blur. When I turned onto the main boulevard, I saw a crowd, chanting with signboards.

"Moreau must go!"

"Justice for Élise!"

"Arrest the predator!"

I slowed, giving the crowd the chance to surge toward the car. Someone threw an egg, the conntent splattering across the windshield. Another hit the side mirror but I kept driving, my hands steady on the wheel. By now, my face.had gone blank.

Security met me at the underground garage, guarding me into the building.

I walked to the elevator, rode up and the doors opened onto chaos. My assistant was waiting, her face pale, as her hands clutched tightly onto her tablet.

"They're all here," she said. "The board… every single one of them. They've been here since six."

I said nothing.

"And the press has decided to camp outside all day. They're saying—"

"I don't care what they're saying."

I walked into my office, throwing my suitcase somewhere without caring where it landed before I say behind my desk. The door behind me burst open and Bernard hurried in. His tie was askew, his face flushed. He crossed to me, lowering his voice.

"We have a problem," he said.

"We have many problems."

"This one is urgent. The board is prepared to vote this morning, and if they do—" He swallowed. "This might be your last day as CEO."

I turned to meet Bernard in the eyes and he took a step back the coldness in my eyes.

“Mr Moreau?”

I gritted my teeth. “That would be over my dead body.”