Chapter 5 - THE MEDIA WAR
By six o’clock that evening, the video had gone viral across local Chicago news platforms and social media feeds.
The leak didn't show Rya throwing the mashed potatoes. It was an edited fifteen-second audio clip recorded secretly during our private lunch just two hours earlier—specifically, the moment where I said: “I want to ensure my grandchildren are restricted from automatic trust distributions.”
The online narrative was ruthless: Cold-hearted billionaire matriarch Dela Morrison starves her own son and his young bride out of her fortune after forcing them into demeaning legal contracts.
Comment sections exploded with outrage. The public, always eager to hate a secretive billionaire, devoured the story.
My corporate PR team called three times within twenty minutes, pleading to issue a formal press release or release the full security footage from the wedding venue to clear my name.
“No,” I told my PR director firmly. “Let the story breathe. Let them think they’ve backed me into a corner.”
At 8:00 PM, my doorbell rang so violently it echoed through the entire apartment.
I opened the door to find Felix standing on the threshold, his face red with fury, holding his phone in his shaking hand.
“Did you see this?!” Felix yelled, stepping into the foyer without taking off his coat. “Someone recorded our lunch! People are harassing Rya online! Her mother is in tears!”
“I saw it, Felix,” I said quietly, closing the door behind him.
“Why would you say those things about our future kids in front of a lawyer?!” Felix shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “Rya was trying so hard to make peace with you! She swallowed her pride, she came to your house, she agreed to sit down with your cold corporate attorney, and you set a trap for her!”
I stood anchored in the center of the living room, watching my son’s pain with a heavy heart.
“Felix,” I said softly. “Who do you think recorded that audio clip at our private table?”
Felix froze, his mouth staying half-open. “What?”
“Marcus Chen and I didn't record it,” I said calmly. “You didn't record it. That leaves one person sitting at that table who had her purse resting right beside the microphone.”
“That’s absurd!” Felix snapped instantly, defensively waving his hand. “Why would Rya leak an audio clip that makes our family look chaotic? She’s devastated by this!”
“She leaked it because her father’s bridge loan was rejected this afternoon,” I revealed, pulling a printed financial ledger from my desk and handing it to him. “Arthur Vance owes $1.4 million to private lenders by the end of this month. Rya needs to create immense public pressure on me so that I will offer them a quiet, out-of-court financial settlement to protect Morrison Holdings from bad publicity.”
Felix stared at the printed ledger in his hands, his eyes scanning the bold red numbers detailing the Vance family’s hidden debts.
For the first time, a genuine shadow of doubt crossed his features.
“Where... where did you get this?” Felix whispered, his hands trembling slightly.
“I run a multi-billion-dollar enterprise, Felix,” I said gently, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I don't leave my son’s future to chance. Rya didn't meet you by accident. She spent fifteen thousand dollars to track you down before she ever spoke to you.”
Felix pulled away from my touch, shaking his head in denial. “No... no, this is another one of your corporate mind games! You hate her because she saw right through you at the wedding! You’re trying to destroy my marriage because you can't control me anymore!”
He threw the papers onto the floor, turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him.
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I stood alone in the quiet foyer, staring at the scattered papers on the rug.
He wasn't ready yet. The illusion had to crumble completely under its own weight before he would finally see the light.
