Chapter 1162

The storm outside had not relented. By dawn, the city was soaked in silver rain, and with it came the first wave of headlines.

“Glory M Accused of Fraud and Laundering.”

“Tudor Group Under Fire: Allegations of Corruption Shake the Dynasty.”

“Elizabeth Tudor—Goddess or Criminal?”

Screens lit up across the country, every news channel replaying the same images: Elizabeth walking into the conference hall the night before, her elegance twisted into a weapon against her.

In the war room of Hidden Camp, tension was palpable. Monitors flashed with headlines and live feeds, journalists clamoring outside the gates like a restless tide.

Elizabeth stood at the head of the table, her back straight, her hands resting lightly on the polished wood. Her expression was unreadable, though her eyes carried the sharp focus of a commander at war.

John slammed a file onto the desk. “Esme moved faster than we expected. She leaked forged ledgers tied directly to Tudor Group. If we don’t counter this within hours, the regulators will freeze both your assets.”

Joseph Stewart leaned back in his chair, calm but watchful. “The press is bloodthirsty. If we let them dictate the narrative, the damage will be irreversible.”

Elizabeth inhaled deeply. She had anticipated this, but the sheer scale of the assault was staggering. Every headline was a dagger aimed at her heart, at everything she had fought to rebuild.

Across the table, Alexander’s gaze never left her. He had seen her face battles alone, but this time, he would not stand idle. “Then we take the narrative back,” he said, voice steady. “Call a press conference. Let me stand in front of them. I’ll make it clear that Esme forged the evidence, that the only fraud here is hers.”

Elizabeth’s eyes flickered toward him, measuring the weight of his words. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust the steel in his voice. But trust was fragile, and hers had been shattered before.

“You would risk everything?” she asked softly.

Alexander’s jaw tightened. “I already lost you once because I chose silence. I won’t repeat that mistake. If I have to burn my name to protect yours, then so be it.”

Silence fell over the room. Even John paused, surprised by the raw conviction in Alexander’s tone.

Elizabeth turned her gaze back to the flashing screens. Esme’s face appeared in one of them—an exclusive interview already airing, her crocodile tears on full display as she painted Elizabeth as a manipulator, a monster in silk.

Elizabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s playing her last card.”

Then she straightened, her aura radiating authority. “Prepare the evidence. Gather every journalist worth their ink. If Esme wants a war, then we’ll give her one—on our terms.”

The storm outside cracked with thunder, as if sealing her vow.

Alexander rose from his seat, moving to her side. His hand brushed against hers, not claiming, not demanding—just steady, grounding. For the first time in years, Elizabeth didn’t pull away.

“Then we fight together,” he said.

She allowed herself a faint nod, her voice barely above a whisper, yet sharp enough to cut through the storm.

“Together.”

And with that single word, the tide of battle shifted.