Chapter 236

Queenie's Pov

Weeks passed like a dream I couldn’t wake from, soft and blurry at the edges. Every day bled into the next, wrapped in a haze of meetings, phone calls, and the constant hum of legal talk. I was there, existing, but not really living. My hands moved, my mouth spoke, but inside, I felt hollow. I felt nothing but pain and loss.

The plans for the clinic… they slowed down. Not by choice. I still wanted it, needed it,but how was I supposed to focus on building something new when my past was being twisted and tossed out in the open for people to judge?

Every conversation with Anton felt like walking on broken glass. We talked daily, mostly about Junie. About updates from his lawyers. What our next legal step was. What Michael’s team was doing. What the public was saying. Everything except… us.

I missed him. I missed us.

It was everything until there was nothing. We never had the chance to talk about the past moments we shared and every second didn't go by without seriousness. All because of Michael, maybe having a good life wasn't what was meant for Anton and I.

I still couldn't deny the fact that I wanted to see him so badly, but he'd only take up the strength to keep fighting when it's so clear we had already lost.

One afternoon, I was hunched over my laptop, trying to distract myself with equipment lists and budgeting software. It was easier than thinking about the mess I was in. I clicked through pages of options, eyeing different ultrasound machines, making notes on paper I wasn’t sure I’d even use. I didn't care, as long as I didn't have to think about anything that stressed my head. It was fight with my thoughts, pushing it all back, my tears and the sadness that pushes up when I see Anton's face or Junie's bright smile.

I kept rampaging the equipment lists, my hands shivering. Not eating well and losing sleep was a completely different problem.

Then, something caught my eye, a news article, small and tucked away at the bottom of the screen. I almost didn’t click it.

“Former Deals Haunt Michael Fisher,” the headline read.

Michael Fisher.

I sat up straighter, clicking the link with trembling fingers. I picked my phone and called Anton, he picked almost immediately.

“Hey. I thought you'd be busy.” I said quickly.

“I am, I just thought you were calling for something important.” He replied.

“I saw an article right now…” I said, my voice more like a soft whisper. He must have gotten the context of my message. “Yeah, I saw that too. You don't have to worry. Everything will be fine.” He assured me.

“How's Junie?”  I asked, my eyes still fixed on the article. Reading and receiving the call felt like something good was coming soon and I was proud of it.

“She's okay. She's doing well, you don't have to worry about that either. Just make sure to save your strength and take care of yourself. You'll need it when I'm done with My Michael.” I almost chuckled. Anton really had it in him. A part of me felt guilty. I opted out even before we got any solid evidence like this article.

I hung up after saying goodbye. The article was short but clear. It hinted at past shady partnerships, unpaid debts, and a few business associates accusing him of manipulation. Nothing major,no bombshells,but it was something. It was something sore for the eye and I could almost jump from my seat. It was a beautiful thing that Michael had things against him, maybe this time fighting would be different. It was the greatest new, a crack in his perfect armor.

“She's okay

I leaned back, letting the soft hum of my laptop fill the silence.

Anton’s team was doing their job obviously. This wasn’t a coincidence. They were digging. And maybe, just maybe… this wouldn’t end in disaster. I had high hopes for a better result, my mind slid through the shouts of victory, and I hoped I wasn't toying with myself.  What if Micheal found a way to erase it all again? There would be no way out. And then I thought again, what if he doesn't?

I whispered into the quiet room, “Maybe I can breathe again.”

I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until the words were hovering in the air. I stood and walked to the window. The sky was grey, and thick clouds hid the sun. It mirrored how I felt,cloudy, uncertain, but… not hopeless.

My arms crossed over my chest.

“This isn't forever,” I told myself. “This storm? It’ll pass. I just have to keep going. Anton isn't giving up, I might as well help him.”

It was strange, how pain could make you feel so alive and so numb at the same time. I used to think heartbreak would come with tears and screaming. But mine came with silence, and the ache of missing a man I still loved, who was now just a voice on the other end of a stiff phone call.

I stared out at the street below. A woman was walking her dog. A kid zipped by on a skateboard. Life was moving. People were living. And here I was,stuck.

But that article… It was a start.

I smiled a little.

Then I spoke again, this time louder. “You don’t get to win, Michael. Not this time again. I'll have Junie by my side soon enough and watch you fall to the ground with my feet stepped on you.”

My voice felt steadier.

“You don’t get to take my daughter, my name, and everything I’ve built.”

I turned from the window, walked back to the table, and shut my laptop. Tears almost dripping from my eyes, he thoroughly made me miserable. I wasn't going to take it easy on him either.

I was still afraid. Still exhausted. But for the first time in weeks, I felt hope. That little thing of an article…..

Anton's Pov

Every morning, I woke before the sun and didn’t stop until well after midnight. I was a machine, fueled by anger, focus, and the love for Queenie that already built up inside me. I couldn't stand her heartbreak, her guilt and her sadness.

I hadn’t stopped feeling, the love that grew in my heart for Queenie only raised an awareness of how much I wanted her close. But I couldn't have that, with Michael running around with fake news and testimony.

My lawyers were relentless. And I made sure of that. If only we had searched well from the beginning, things wouldn't have spiraled out of control. I had to take my chances and not lose any, there was more to do to bring Michael down and I've started.

The article Queenie saw? That was just the appetizer. What we had on Michael Fisher now, was enough to ruin him completely.

Financial fraud. Fake investors. Illegal wire transfers. In at least three cases he settled quietly in the past. We found people. People who wanted to talk. People he thought he’d buried with money or fear. But they were ready now. And I would give them the stage.

I should’ve felt tired, but instead, I felt... alive.

Michael thought he could drag Queenie through the dirt. Thought he could rewrite her story and play the victim. Thought he could use Junie to control her.

He picked the wrong people to play with.

I sent Queenie a text before I walked into the conference hall: “We're fighting back. Hard.”

I didn’t expect her to reply. I just wanted her to know. This wasn’t just business anymore. It never had been.

I stood behind the podium, flashes already going off, reporters’ voices buzzing like insects. The room was full. Every major paper had sent someone.

Good.

I adjusted the mic and looked out at the sea of faces.

“My name is Anton Blackwood,” I began. “And this press conference is not about me. It’s not about speculation, rumors, or social media drama. It’s about the truth. And the truth needs a microphone.”

They leaned in. All of them.

“I have no interest in slandering anyone for sport. But the man at the center of this current controversy,Michael Fisher,has painted himself as a victim, when in reality, he’s a predator in a suit.”

The flashes got more intense. I heard someone whispering to another reporter.

“Today, we are releasing documents,official, verified records,that show a consistent pattern of financial misconduct, fraud, and manipulation by Mr. Fisher.”

I motioned to my legal rep, who handed out folders to the front row.

“These include wire transfers linked to shell companies, forged agreements with former investors, and testimonies from victims,some of whom were silenced with threats or payments. These are not accusations. These are facts.”

I paused, letting it sink in.

“I also want to be clear. The attempt to defame Dr. Queenie Andrews was not only cruel,it was calculated. And I will not stand by while a woman who has done nothing but fight for her family and her future is dragged through the mud.”

Someone raised a hand. “Mr. Blackwood, are you saying Mrs Andrews was framed?”

I leaned forward slightly.

“I’m saying she was targeted. Because Michael Fisher knew he couldn’t control her anymore.”

Gasps rippled through the room. I didn’t flinch.

Another reporter called out, “Are you and Queenie working together again?”

I didn’t answer that. Not because I didn’t want to. But because I didn’t know what we were anymore.

I simply said, “We’re on the same side. That’s all that matters.”

I gave my closing words calmly. “The legal team will be forwarding this evidence to the authorities. And while I cannot promise justice will be immediate, I can promise it’s coming.”