Chapter 23: The Eye of the Storm
I woke up with a pounding headache, the weight of the past few days weighing heavily on my mind. My mouth was dry, my body sluggish—as if I’d been drowning in whiskey, though I hadn’t touched a drop. The real hangover wasn’t alcohol. It was rage.
A faint commotion drifted in from outside. I shoved the curtains aside, and my stomach dropped.
A sea of reporters and photographers had gathered at the gates of my mansion, their cameras flashing nonstop, even from this distance. It was like looking at a swarm of locusts, hungry for any information they could devour.
"Shit," I muttered, letting the curtain drop.
My jaw clenched as I made my way downstairs, the house feeling so quiet despite the growing commotion outside.
Pouring myself a much-needed cup of coffee, I turned on the TV in the kitchen. Every news channel seemed to be running the story:
"TECH TYCOON LIAM ASHTON ACCUSES WIFE OF INFIDELITY."
"DIANE ASHTON: GOLD DIGGER OR VICTIM?"
"SYNERGY SPHERE GROUP STOCK FALLS AMID CEO SCANDAL."
I felt a mix of emotions watching the TV—anger, frustration, but also a twisted sense of satisfaction. Let Diane see what happens when she tries to take me on, I thought bitterly.
The ringing of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. It was my head of security.