One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 02

One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 02

“My God, that’s a lot to process.”

Someone immediately chimed in:

The phone grew scorching hot as it struggled to process the data dump, the interface beginning to lag.

After the initial shock, opinions began to diverge.

The phone vibrated, the screen flaring to life.

“Maybe the Donna was just joking.”

I took a deep breath and pressed the power button.

I sat up and reached for the backup phone on the pillow.

Two days later.

A sharp, furious roar immediately erupted from the other end.

It was followed by several minutes of dead silence.

“A joke? Who jokes about something like this?”

“Oh, so that’s what happened. I knew there had to be a misunderstanding.”

It wasn’t Julian.

The notification badge for the family channel was just a blur of red that read “99+”.

I switched the phone to silent and tossed it aside.

And Cassia, the woman at the center of it all, finally surfaced about half an hour after my post.

“Exactly. At the last family gathering, she kept taking drinks for the Don, got completely wasted, and he had to take her home in the end.”

It was a tearful, pitiful, perfectly crafted piece of public relations.

Hundreds of missed call alerts.

Only then did I pick up the scalding phone again.

“A woman’s reputation is everything. How am I supposed to go on in the family after this?”

On the screen, missed calls, encrypted messages, and app notifications flooded in like a tidal wave.

Finally, she even tagged me.

Two days was plenty of time for things to fester.

The phone buzzed violently, over and over, threatening to jump right out of my hand.

“Last night, the Don was forced to drink heavily at a banquet to close an important deal, and he could barely stand.”

Playing the PR game? You’re not in my league, Cassia.

“Everyone, let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m sure Cassia isn’t that kind of person. There must be a misunderstanding.”

I woke on my own.

“Perhaps my wording was clumsy and caused a misunderstanding. I truly didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I don’t know why the Donna would post such a message. I’m genuinely terrified.”

I got up and went to the kitchen to make myself a simple breakfast.

“Did Cassia finally overplay her hand?”

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“To all family members, I apologize for taking up public resources with a personal matter.”

Some people who didn’t know the truth, their sympathies overflowing, began to rush to her defense.

And then, my phone went berserk.

As if the hurricane raging outside had nothing to do with me.

He posted a single wide-eyed emoji, then quickly deleted it.

I let it ring, pressing answer just a second before it would have gone to voicemail.

“Are you blind? Did you see Cassia’s own text? ‘Tonight, he’s mine.’ How is that fake?”

Reading their words, the cold smile on my lips only widened.

A fried egg, toast, and a hot latte.

“Donna, if you see this, please come out and explain. I’m begging you.”

“Did the Donna’s account get hacked?”

Once the first crack appears, everyone is eager to help bring the whole thing down.

“That’s the Don in the photo, right?”

She shifted all the blame onto me.

“Hello.”

In that moment, the “loyal assistant” image Cassia had so carefully cultivated crumbled to dust.

“Aurelia! You finally answer your phone! Are you insane? What do you think you’re doing?!”

I ignored all of Julian’s messages.

Below his were the family’s core members, my friends, and a few unfamiliar numbers.

The channel had exploded.

“I feel so bad for Cassia. Sending hugs.”

“I left after getting him settled and tried to call the estate, but no one answered.”

It had been off for two days. Time to see how far the storm had spread.

I had “misunderstood.” I was “making a big deal out of nothing.” I had ruined “a woman’s reputation.”

“Yeah, she’s just a young woman. How can she face anyone in the family after this?”

“The Donna was a bit impulsive this time. Posting that without getting the facts straight has really hurt Cassia.”

And others started taking sides.

I glanced at the call list.

The name on the screen made my blood run cold.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the bulletproof windows, casting dappled patterns on the Italian marble floor.

Immediately after, the whispers began.

My voice was devoid of emotion.

It was my mother-in-law, Eleanor Griffin.

Some were waiting for the fallout.

At the very top was Julian.

A female assistant who was close to Cassia spoke up:

As soon as her statement went out, the tide in the channel did begin to shift.

Just then, an encrypted call came in.

Some were secretly enjoying the drama.

Then, the first to react was the family’s head Capo.

I ate slowly, methodically.

The “congratulatory” message I’d sent had landed like a depth charge.

“Exactly. The Don and Donna have such a great relationship. How could this be possible?”

After the familiar startup animation, the signal bars filled instantly.

Dozens of unread messages.

She painted herself as a diligent, responsible, and innocently wronged subordinate.

A textbook performance of victimhood.

An unfamiliar room, but the air held the familiar scent of my Jo Malone perfume.

99+ missed calls.

Such feeble defenses were quickly drowned out by more damning observations.

“As the Don’s assistant, I have a duty to ensure his safety, so I took him to a nearby hotel to rest.”

After breakfast, I washed the dishes.

“The Don was drunk and had soiled his shirt, so I removed it. To keep him from catching a cold, I covered him with a jacket—one the Donna had left in the office, which I keep in my car.”

She posted a long block of text in the channel.

“In my panic, I remembered the Donna’s contact information and wanted to let her know he was safe.”

Instead, I opened the core circle within the family’s encrypted channel.

“There is nothing but a professional relationship between the Don and me. Please, I beg you, stop the rumors.”

“I always thought there was something off about her. She’s always dressed to kill, her mind is clearly not on work.”