Chapter 148
Maybe it was because he drank too fast, or perhaps the grief lodged in Benjamin's throat made it impossible to swallow—either way, he choked violently, coughing until he looked utterly wretched.
"Sir, are you okay?"
A timid voice piped up beside him, soft and gentle as a kitten's mew.
But Benjamin was in no mood for pleasantries.
He lifted his head, ready to snap—and froze when he saw her face.
The delicate slope of her nose. The pressed line of her lips. And those eyes, clear as a doe's, stubborn yet resolute.
She looked almost exactly like Charlotte.
In that instant, Benjamin's heart skipped a beat. Alcohol and tangled emotions surged through him all at once.
"I'm… I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to…" The girl shrank under his gaze, her fingers tightening nervously around the empty tray in her hands.
"What's your name?"
Staring at that face, he heard himself ask—as if possessed.
"I… I'm Angie."
"Angie…" Benjamin murmured, his eyes still locked on her.
For a moment, he thought he saw the woman who'd already slipped so far from his reach.
Without warning, his hand shot out and clamped around her wrist.
"Ah!" The girl yelped, struggling to pull free.
"Don't move." Benjamin's grip was iron. He yanked her into his arms, ignoring her cries and resistance, locking her trembling body against his chest.
A familiar fragrance seemed to linger at the edge of his senses. The girl shook in his embrace, soft and warm.
Benjamin closed his eyes, brushing the bridge of his nose against the hollow of her neck, burying his face there.
"Charlotte… don't leave me…" he slurred.
Meanwhile, in a shadowy corner of the bar, someone in an inconspicuous booth silently raised their phone and captured the scene.
On the screen: a man lost in his own world, clutching a girl whose profile bore an uncanny resemblance to Charlotte. The photographer nodded in satisfaction.
Then, just as quietly, they slipped away.
---
The next day, a bombshell hit the internet.
#Benjamin Harris Seen With Ex at Bar on Eve of Wedding—Johnson Sisters Battle for Billionaire Groom# shot straight to the top of trending topics.
Within hours, the entire web was ablaze with commentary.
【OMG is this real?! Ms. Johnson is back with Benjamin?!】
【Wait, wasn't she with Alexander Harris? Now she's hooking up with her ex again? Is she two-timing them?】
【Poor Chloe. Her wedding's right around the corner and her fiancé's all over her own sister. Talk about a public humiliation!】
【This woman has zero shame. Stealing her sister's man? Seriously?!】
The internet exploded with judgment and vitriol, tearing into "the Charlotte in the photo" with relentless fury.
And Charlotte herself? She had no idea.
---
In her office, Charlotte had just finished an immersive VR simulation—a full-blown meltdown scene where she'd smashed a keyboard after failing to secure a loan. She was about to switch back to her main system and continue tracking Richard's trail when her phone rang.
Seeing Chloe's name flash across the screen, Charlotte frowned in annoyance and declined the call.
But Chloe called again. And again.
By the third time, Charlotte's patience snapped. She answered coldly. "Chloe, what the hell do you want?!"
"Charlotte! You shameless, two-faced bitch!"
Chloe's shriek was so shrill it nearly pierced Charlotte's eardrum.
"You're already with Alexander! So why are you stealing my Benjamin?!"
"Are you seriously not satisfied until I'm a laughingstock? Until my life is completely ruined?!"
Charlotte blinked, utterly baffled. Stealing Benjamin? What was she even talking about?
"Have you lost your mind?"
"Lost my mind? The whole internet is talking about what you did!" Chloe's voice was ragged, bordering on hysterical. "Everyone's laughing at us! Charlotte, I'm warning you—stay away from Benjamin, or I swear I'll make you regret it!"
Just then, her assistant Mireille burst through the door, looking frantic.
"Ms. Johnson, you need to see this—check the trending topics, now!"
Charlotte shot her a look that said 'calm down,' then turned her attention back to the phone. "Chloe, quit slandering me. And keep your man in check."
"If you call me again, you'll regret it."
She hung up without waiting for a reply and immediately blocked the number.
Only then did she take the tablet from Mireille's outstretched hand. "What's going on?"
But the moment she saw the glaring headline and the strategically angled photo beneath it, her expression turned ice-cold.
The man in the picture was definitely Benjamin. But the woman? That wasn't her.
"Ms. Johnson, this photo is obviously fake—either photoshopped or staged with a body double!" Mireille's voice shook with indignation. "I'll have PR pull it down immediately!"
"No." Charlotte's eyes narrowed. "Don't."
It wasn't that she didn't want to clear her name—it was just bad timing.
Right now, the entire internet was whipped into a frenzy. If she deployed PR tactics now, people would only assume she was running from the truth.
Besides, whoever did this had clearly planned ahead. They'd have a backup move ready.
Charlotte pressed her lips together, her mind involuntarily conjuring Alexander's sharp, unyielding face.
Does he know? What does he think? Does he believe I'm some two-timing flirt, stringing him along while tangled up with my ex?
The thought alone made her chest tighten with inexplicable anxiety.
She realized, with startling clarity, that she couldn't stand the idea of Alexander misunderstanding her.
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number before she could second-guess herself.
The line rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
He didn't pick up.
The call disconnected automatically. Charlotte's heart sank. She tried again.
Same result.
Has he seen the news? Is he angry? Is that why he won't answer?
Her pulse quickened. Anxiety coiled around her heart like a vine, tightening until she could barely breathe.
No. She couldn't let this go on.
She had to see him. She had to explain—face to face.
"Get the car ready. We're going to the Harris Group."