Chapter 141

Chapter 141
Lowell's POV

When word of Alina's lawsuit reached me, I was sitting in my study, going over the quarterly reports for the West District project.

Jason burst through the door, a phone clutched in one hand and a legal complaint in the other. His face was grim. He crossed to my desk and set the complaint down in front of me, then held up his phone, screen facing me. On it was a screenshot of a news alert—the headline in bold, shared and reshared more times than anyone could count.

"Alina Charliecross Files Formal Suit Against Lowell Vadalishi—Alleging Unlawful Imprisonment, Psychological Coercion, and Sex Trafficking!" Jason's face flushed red with anger, his voice trembling faintly. "Lowell, you treated that woman so well—and she turns around and drags you into court?!"

I said nothing. I lowered my eyes to the phone. In the accompanying photo, Alina sat on a stage at a press conference, beside Adams. Her expression was calm, her outfit tasteful. Her eyes were downcast, fixed on the table rather than the cameras. But I knew that profile better than anything. It was her.

After a moment of stunned silence, Jason spoke again. "The public's already whipped up over this. Every major outlet is running it. Shouldn't we put out a statement right away? I can reach out to a few friendly media contacts, get our messaging locked down first—"

"No."

I made the decision quickly, pulling my gaze from Jason's phone and handing it back to him. "Notify the legal team. Have them prepare our defense. But no public statements, nothing inflammatory. Every formal response goes through the courts."

Jason clearly hadn't expected that. "And the public? People out there are tearing you apart. If we don't respond, what happens to your reputation?"

I didn't argue back right away, because he was right. But I was certain this wasn't Alina's doing—and I couldn't bring myself to hurt her.

"As for public opinion—put people on it. Suppress everything negative aimed at Alina. Anything calling her 'ungrateful' or a 'backstabber' on a large scale, find a way to bury it. Don't let her become the target."

Jason stared at me, plainly shocked by what I'd said. "Lowell! This concerns your reputation—the future of the family!"

"I know," I said. "But right now, I'm the one who speaks for this family."

Jason opened his mouth as if to say something, then simply lowered his head. "Understood."

He turned and took a couple of steps toward the door, then stopped. After a hesitation, he glanced back at me. "Some of the elders from the old estate have already called. They want to discuss this with you—probably to push you toward a countersuit. They're saying Miss Alina is making false accusations—"

"No countersuit."

"I won't say a single word against her. The truth of this matter isn't something you win by fighting a media war."

Jason's lips moved, but the words never came. His face was full of frustrated defiance. In the end, he pushed the door open and walked out.

Once it clicked shut, the study fell quiet again. I sat in my chair, but the only thing my mind could conjure was the way she used to be.

There was no way Alina truly wanted to sue me. I believed she wasn't that kind of person.

If I countersued her for slander now—if I pushed her to the opposing side of public opinion, if I used every resource at my disposal to wage an open war against her—then I'd become the sharpest shard in the chasm that already stood between us. I still hadn't fully uncovered why she'd left. Until I did, I would do nothing that might drive her irreversibly into Adams's arms.

In the days that followed, the frenzy didn't die down. It only intensified.

The coverage came in like a rising tide, the headlines growing more sensational, the content more slanted. Some outlets even dug up that piece from months ago about the "dark horse female fighter," dredging up the story of how I'd bought her at auction and embellishing it into some sordid tale of power and sex changing hands.

The comment sections descended into chaos. Some said Alina was ungrateful, others that she was a scheming manipulator, and still others that she was a victim being held hostage by Adams.

The elders' calls never stopped, coming in one after another. Antonio had already been cleared out, but the family still had its share of high-ranking old-timers. Most of them didn't care what had actually happened between Alina and me. All they cared about was whether this would damage the family's interests.

"Lowell, you're too young!" The voice on the line carried the scolding tone unique to an elder. "She's suing you as the plaintiff. If you don't strike back, the world will assume you're admitting to those charges. You have to countersue for slander, destroy her credibility—that's the only way to win this case."

Faced with all of it, I held to my earlier decision. "I won't countersue."

"You're gambling with the reputation of this entire family!"

"This is between her and me. It won't affect the family."

I didn't press the argument any further. After hanging up, I set the phone down on the desk.

I'd already read Alina's complaint. I was certain it wasn't what she truly wanted—otherwise she wouldn't have left so much deliberate ambiguity in its wording.

What Adams wanted was a charge that would nail me to the wall for good. But every accusation in that complaint used vague, noncommittal language—"alleged," "suspected." She had no way to openly defy Adams, yet she was still using the only means within her control to leave me a way out.

It was then that Megan shoved my door open, breathless, and hurried over to me.

"Lowell! I have something really important to tell you!"

"I don't have the energy right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait," I told her. "I've got other things to deal with."

"I know what's weighing on you—it's exactly why I'm here, because of you and Alina!" Megan's voice was frantic, her whole body shaking. Finally, gasping for breath, she asked, "Did your father really kill his own parents back then?!"