Chapter 66
Hearing his voice, my heart softened and my tone unconsciously became gentler. "Grandpa, please don't say that. Your health is what matters most."
Maddox let out a heavy sigh, his voice full of disappointment and pain. "I've heard about what's happening online, and I've seen what Mr. Wilson had sent over. It's my fault for not raising them properly. You've been wronged, and I've already called that troublemaker Michael back to apologize to you."
Before I could respond, there was a sudden commotion on the other end, and a sharp female voice rudely cut in—it was Winter.
"Why should he apologize! Does the Johnson family have no dignity left?" Her tone was harsh and venomous. "Ophelia, are you satisfied now? Turning our family upside down—are you happy? Michael was bewitched by you, you homewrecker, that's why he's protecting Freya, that troublemaker, and sent her abroad to avoid the heat! The Johnson family has become like this all because of you!"
Her ridiculous accusations were so absurd they made me laugh.
I didn't even bother raising my voice, just calmly exposed her hypocritical facade. "Mrs. Johnson, do you think that by blaming everything on me, you can cover up Michael's incompetence and Freya's malice? Or have you just gotten used to deceiving yourself?"
"How dare you!" She was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her voice instantly shooting up.
"Mom, give me the phone!" Michael's voice followed immediately. He seemed to have snatched the phone back from Winter, his breathing heavy with suppressed anger.
I thought he would at least apologize, but when he spoke, that nauseating sense of superiority and self-righteousness hit me in the face.
"Ophelia, do you really have to make such a scene?" He questioned me, his tone carrying a condescending sense of charity. "What happened with Freya was my fault. I've already sent her away! I'll smooth things over with Grandpa too. Just admit your mistake, stop making trouble, and about the past, I..."
Before he could finish, I expressionlessly pressed the hang-up button.
Listening to the busy tone from the receiver, I just felt nauseated.
Every word with this family was a waste of my life.
I tossed my phone on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom.
The last bit of unpleasantness from that ridiculous phone call disappeared completely when I decided to prepare a nice breakfast for Benjamin and myself.
I walked into the kitchen, planning to take out the ingredients I'd bought last night from the fridge.
Benjamin was standing at the counter in a simple white T-shirt and dark gray lounge pants, his tall figure focused on studying what looked like a very complicated coffee machine.
Morning light streamed in through the window beside him, coating him in a soft golden glow that made him look less sharp than he did in business settings and more gentle and homey.
Hearing movement, he turned around, and when he saw me, a very faint smile rippled through his deep eyes.
"This coffee machine," he pointed at the silver appliance, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly with a rare hint of confusion, "is more complicated than the one in my office."
Watching him seriously studying the instruction manual, I found it amusing.
This man who could move billion-dollar projects in the business world was now stumped by a small household coffee machine.
This contrast made his unapproachable, sharp aura disappear, leaving only a homey warmth that made my heart soften.
I walked over, took the manual from his hands, and operated it skillfully.
Soon, the rich aroma of coffee filled the kitchen.
"You seem to know how to do everything," he said quietly, leaning against the counter and watching me.
I handed him a steaming cup of coffee and raised an eyebrow. "Can't rely on others for everything."
I said it casually, but his eyes darkened slightly when he heard it.
He didn't respond, just took the coffee cup, then quite naturally took out the ingredients I'd bought last night from the fridge and took over the chef's position.
"Let me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
So I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway, watching him move with ease in my kitchen.
His movements handling the ingredients were clean and efficient, his control of the heat for the steak was perfect—that composure and control were exactly the same as when he was at the negotiating table.
We sat facing each other at the dining table, enjoying this belated breakfast.
The morning light was warm, the food delicious. No one spoke, but the atmosphere wasn't awkward at all—instead, there was a peaceful, quiet contentment.
After breakfast, he didn't immediately leave. Instead, he looked at me and said in a low voice, "Stay with me a while. I'll take you to the office."
I paused while wiping the corners of my mouth with my napkin, looking up at him with some surprise.
He looked into my eyes, his tone consultative but his gaze carrying an undeniable certainty. "I flew back overnight. You should at least give me some compensation."
I looked at the sea of stars in his eyes, slightly tired from travel but still deep, and after a long moment, I nodded gently. "Okay."
Sitting in his warm car, I belatedly realized that I had so easily agreed to his almost willful request.
I took out my phone, intending to handle some urgent emails, but my fingers somehow opened the news page instead.
The trending topic about me had already been taken down, replaced by an official police announcement with blue background and white text.
The announcement clearly stated that Willie, a reporter from Starlight Media, had been criminally detained for fabricating facts and maliciously slandering others.
Below the announcement, several well-known gossip accounts seemed to have coordinated to release even more explosive content at the same time.
There were screenshots of transfers from Freya to Willie, chat records of her buying online trolls to smear me, and even a processed phone recording where her malicious and jealous voice was clearly audible, inciting Willie to use the filthiest words to attack me.
Overnight, public opinion had completely reversed.
The online condemnation of Freya was a hundred times fiercer than when they had attacked me.
Looking at those unbearable comments, I felt no satisfaction, only calm indifference.
I put away my phone and turned to look at the man beside me who was focused on driving, speaking sincerely. "Thank you."
Benjamin kept his eyes on the road, his fingers on the steering wheel moving slightly. "Protecting my own people is only natural."
He paused, then added, "Between us, there's no need for thanks."