Chapter 177 Tone It Down
Chapter 177 Tone It Down
At 10 a.m., public opinion exploded.
A new viral video shot to the top of trending searches.
#GenevieveTearfulReversal#
#CeciliaCoercedConfession#
#IslaIslandMurderFalseTestimony#
In the video, Genevieve sat in front of the camera wrapped in a blanket, her hair disheveled, lips drained of all color, eyes swollen and red from crying.
She pulled the blanket down slightly, revealing her shoulders and back covered in dark purple bruises. The marks ran one after another—a horrifying sight.
"What I said before... it wasn't true." She trembled before the camera. "Cecilia forced me. She locked me up, threatened me, wouldn't let me leave, and scared me with threats about my mother."
"That designer bag, those purchase records—she deliberately set it all up to frame me. She said as long as I pointed the finger at Ms. Scarlett, she'd keep me safe. If I didn't comply, she'd make me disappear completely."
"I was terrified. I'm still terrified."
"Ms. Scarlett didn't hurt anyone. She's innocent."
The video was under five minutes, but shares were skyrocketing. The comments section was completely one-sided.
"I knew it. Rich women are never clean."
"Cecilia's ruthless—using a dead person to set up her scheme."
"Earlier she positioned herself as the victim, turns out she's the most vicious one."
"Scarlett was framed, wasn't she? Money really can crush people."
Laurent Group's PR department phones were ringing off the hook.
Outside the Yale Counseling Center, people were already filming with their phones.
Cecilia stood in her office, watched the entire video without expression, then called Zoe.
"You saw it?" On Zoe's end, rapid keyboard clicks accompanied her cold tone. "Just suppressed one batch of trending topics, and thirty more popped up. The video came from a newly registered account created at dawn. The first wave of shares were all bot accounts. Heavy investment in amplification."
Cecilia grabbed her coat. "Where's Genevieve?"
A moment of silence, then Zoe's voice dropped. "Missing."
Cecilia's steps halted. "What did the police say?"
"Last confirmed location was at the old Brooklyn port. This morning she vanished. The precinct's looking for her too." Zoe swore. "Damn it, the second this video dropped, Scarlett's lawyers moved. She'll be out of the station soon."
Cecilia's eyes turned cold. "Not soon. Immediately."
At the same time, police station conference room.
The attorney pushed a tablet toward the officer. "My client has been maliciously framed. The key witness has publicly recanted and accused Ms. Laurent of illegal detention, violent coercion, and witness intimidation. The police have no grounds to continue holding Ms. Scarlett."
The officer's expression soured. "We're still verifying."
Scarlett sat nearby, hair neatly combed, eyes rimmed with just the right amount of red, voice deliberately soft.
"I'm willing to cooperate with the investigation. I trust the police will clear my name." She lowered her eyes, inwardly triumphant.
Meanwhile, at an old Brooklyn warehouse.
Genevieve was tied to a chair, head lolling to one side, face swollen beyond recognition, blood crusted at the corner of her mouth.
And that tearful video had been filmed right here in this room.
The injuries on her shoulders and back weren't fake—they'd all been inflicted just moments ago.
Two burly men stood against the wall, still holding electrical cables and belts. A torn blanket and empty water bottles littered the floor.
Elliot sat across from her, cane resting across his knees, expression glacial.
"See how simple it is?" he said slowly. "You cry a little, show a few wounds, and the entire internet speaks up for you. People love nothing more than pitying someone who looks half-dead."
"I did what you said. Let me go. Please let me go." Genevieve sobbed, trembling.
Elliot regarded her. "If you'd been this smart earlier, we wouldn't be here today."
"I really won't say anything again." Genevieve nodded frantically. "I swear, I won't say a word."
Elliot smiled faintly. "I believe you 'want' to keep quiet. I don't believe you 'can' keep quiet forever."
The blood drained from Genevieve's face. "What do you mean?"
Elliot stood, adjusting his cuffs.
"Get her out of New York. Make it clean." He took two steps toward the door, then stopped. "Deal with the tongue."
Genevieve's entire body went rigid, then she thrashed wildly. "No, no, please—"
Noon, at Mrs. Lames's private club.
Mary Lames held her coffee cup, wine-red nails gleaming, smile shallow. "Mr. Campbell, the video's impact was excellent. Your people work efficiently."
Elliot reclined on the sofa. "You want the production lines. Don't ask about the rest."
"I've never been interested in your dirty business anyway." Mary sipped her coffee. "What interests me is Cecilia."
Rosalind sat beside her, expression sharp. "That girl's been too high-profile lately—even daring to disregard Sterling. If we let her keep making waves, it'll look bad for everyone."
Mary glanced at her. "Everyone? Are you afraid Miles will come back to her, or that your precious daughter-in-law's position isn't secure?"
Rosalind's face stiffened.
Elliot tapped the table. "State your terms."
Mary set down her cup. "I'll lend you two production lines. I'll take the orders. I'll give you payment terms. In exchange, it's simple—destroy Cecilia. Ruin her reputation completely. Make sure she can never enter high society again, and can never reclaim her position at Laurent."
Elliot studied her. "You share blood with her."
"Exactly." Mary smiled. "Stepping on her myself will be even more satisfying."
The three exchanged glances. None trusted the others—only mutual interest sat on the table.
Knightley Group, top floor.
Roman placed the tablet in front of Felix, expression unusually serious. "Boss, the video's spread to international platforms. Public opinion's completely reversed. Also, Genevieve's location signal cut out. The precinct believes someone took her."
Felix opened the video and watched it through without expression.
"That old bastard Campbell made his move."
"The police will release Scarlett first. Without witness testimony, this case will drag."
"It won't drag." Felix loosened his tie. "Injuries, kidnapping, false testimony, contract killing, drug sources, factory connections, financial trails—dig up everything. If you can't find it in New York, try New Jersey, Florida, offshore trusts."
"Understood."
"One more thing." Felix looked up. "Campbell's capacity problems suddenly eased. Who took over his lines?"
Roman immediately pulled up files. "Traced it to a company ultimately connected to Mrs. Lames. Those two idle production lines she controls started warming up last night."
Felix's eyes darkened. "As expected."
Roman asked, "Should we move on her first?"
"Watch her for now." Felix stood, reaching for his coat. "She's smarter than Rosalind and greedier than Campbell. Greedy people expose themselves."
Outside the police station, media packed the entrance.
Scarlett emerged wearing sunglasses, escorted by her attorney and bodyguards.
Reporters thrust microphones forward. "Ms. Scarlett, what's your response to Genevieve's recantation?"
"Will the Campbell family sue Cecilia?"
"Do you truly have no connection to the Isla Island murder case?"
Scarlett removed her sunglasses, eyes glistening with tears. "I believe the truth will prevail. As for those who maliciously harmed me—I won't forgive them."
As she got into the car, the corners of her lips lifted slightly.
That evening, Campbell estate.
Scarlett had barely entered when she found Elliot already waiting in the living room. He gestured toward the sofa. "Sit."
Scarlett's steps faltered, but she sat.
Elliot regarded her, tone devoid of warmth. "I didn't pull you out so you could keep making trouble."
Scarlett's eyes turned cold. "You're blaming me?"
"I'm warning you." Elliot gripped his cane. "You've made too many mistakes lately."
Scarlett looked at him. "Grandfather, is there really a point to saying this now?"
Elliot met her gaze, no longer indulging her as before. "You'd better rein yourself in. Campbell Corporation can't afford you losing control a second time."