Chapter 288
Chapter 288
That was a complex expression mixing disgust, humiliation, and deeply buried hatred.
Margaret's heart sank bit by bit.
The distance she and Richard had managed to close was now torn open by an even deeper rift—this "Ouroboros Fund."
"Richard." She spoke, her voice calm.
He didn't respond.
"'The Shadow's' target is you. My company, Dr. Johnson—we're all just bait." Margaret continued. "Now they're pointing their weapons at your family. When exactly do you plan to put all your cards on the table?"
Richard finally moved.
He turned to look at her, his eyes harboring a bottomless storm.
"Some things are better left unknown."
That line again.
Margaret found it almost laughable.
She was already caught up in this vendetta, had become the most important piece on their chessboard, and he was still saying she was better off not knowing?
"Richard," she met his eyes, "are you protecting me, or are you protecting the Neville family's secrets?"
The question cut precisely through the fragile "ally" relationship between them.
Richard's Adam's apple bobbed once. He didn't answer.
He simply walked to the other end of the room and retrieved an antiquated-looking satellite phone from a hidden compartment.
The device had no unnecessary buttons—it looked more like military equipment.
He dialed a number.
The moment the call connected, his entire aura shifted.
The businessman's shrewdness and calculation vanished, replaced by the absolute authority of someone in command.
"Activate Shield Protocol."
His voice was low, but every word was crystal clear. "Level one alert. Protection target: Margaret Kennedy. And all members of her core team."
"I don't care what methods you use. From this moment on, I want every breath of air she takes to be clean."
"Authorization: unlimited."
He hung up, leaving only the faint dial tone after the connection cut.
He didn't explain what Shield Protocol was, nor did he look at Margaret again.
But Margaret knew that an invisible net, tighter than Blackstone Squad, had quietly spread with her at its center.
And Richard, who had just shown vulnerability in front of her, now stood at the web's center, using a method she couldn't understand—almost obsessively—to trap her firmly within his protective circle.
It was both protection and a form of imprisonment.
She watched his back, her mind echoing with "The Shadow" leader's final words.
Ouroboros.
This secret pierced her heart like a poisoned thorn.
After that call, Lakehaven's safe house became an impregnable cage.
Margaret didn't press for details about "Shield Protocol," but every corner of daily life silently proclaimed its presence.
The Blackstone operatives at the door were replaced by two unfamiliar Eastern European faces—silent as sculptures with ice-cold stares.
All external communications were routed through unknown encrypted channels, and even drinking water required prior quality testing.
Richard had given her the highest level of protection and the highest level of distrust.
A layer of ice seemed to separate them.
He handled his affairs; she contemplated her strategies.
"Ouroboros" and the rainy night's street battle became forbidden topics. They were like strangers sharing a table under the same roof—sharing space but dividing worlds.
This eerie calm was completely shattered three days before the global beta launch of the "Starlink" system.
"Ms. Kennedy, we have a problem!"
The video call from Margaret New Energy Group's technical director came through almost as a shout. His usually composed face was covered with anxious sweat. "Starting half an hour ago, negative publicity about 'Starlink' exploded simultaneously across all major platforms! There are professional manipulators behind this—highly organized with expert methods!"
The real-time monitoring screen he shared showed data streams forming an ominous red ocean.
"SHOCKING! 'Starlink' System Contains Fatal Flaws—Radiation Levels May Cause Cancer!"
"Former Employee Exposes: Ignoring User Lives for Commercial Profit!"
"Deep Analysis: Space-Based Internet Is a Sword Hanging Over Our Heads!"
Sensational articles paired with fake "expert" interviews and doctored "internal" data spread like a virus. The rumors directly targeted "Starlink's" core radiation safety issues—the most sensitive topic for stirring public fear.
"The PR team is already engaged, but their firepower is too intense. They have ten times our numbers with a clear division of labor..." The technical director's voice trembled. "Stock prices are starting to fluctuate, and our European carrier partners are calling with concerns."
"The Shadow's" second wave of attack had arrived. They abandoned physical assassination for a lower-cost, more devastating public opinion war. They wanted to strangle "Starlink's" future.
Margaret watched the blood-red headlines, her expression unusually calm.
"Compile all claims about 'radiation causing cancer,' data models, and expert backgrounds and send them to me."
She gave orders coolly. "Also, connect me to Professor Phillips at Aldridge University and Dr. Isaac Schmidt at Aetherion Institute of Technology."
The technical director was stunned—these were top experts in electromagnetic physics and space technology.
"Tell them I have something they'd find interesting," Margaret added.
Richard appeared behind her at some point, watching the escalating public opinion attack on screen, his brow furrowed.
His people were already tracking the source, but the opposition was well-prepared, using countless botnets and proxy servers to muddy the trail.
"Do you need the Neville Group's PR department to intervene?" he asked in a low voice.
"No need." Margaret didn't turn around. "This is my battlefield."
Her voice carried no emotion but conveyed an unquestionable distance.
Richard's eyes darkened.
Watching her profile as she focused intently on the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard, her entire being sharp-edged.
This was the real her.
Cool, powerful, always choosing to wield the blade rather than wait for rescue when facing a crisis.
He suddenly realized that Shield Protocol could confine her body but couldn't cage her heart.
The next morning,
As the "Starlink cancer theory" ran rampant and small-scale protests even gathered outside Margaret's European branch, a video quietly appeared on the front pages of major video platforms worldwide.
The background was Margaret New Energy Group's core laboratory.
Margaret wore a white lab coat, no makeup, her long hair pulled back—clean and professional.
She didn't refute angrily or cry out, just stood calmly before the camera.
"Hello everyone, I'm Margaret Kennedy."
"Over the past twenty-four hours, my company and product have been experiencing a carefully orchestrated smear campaign. The most widespread claim is that 'Starlink' satellite radiation causes cancer."
She smiled at the camera.
The smile was faint but carried a reassuring power.
"That's a very good question. It shows people are starting to care about the sky above us. Before answering, I'd like everyone to understand a few basic facts first."