She Called It A Joke I Called It Revenge And Let Them Both Burn Chapter 10

She Called It A Joke I Called It Revenge And Let Them Both Burn Chapter 10

As Julian was led out of The Gilded Sage in handcuffs, the crowd outside surged forward. 

People were livestreaming his walk of shame. 

The comments were flooded with people following the drama: 

[What happened? Who got arrested?] 

[OMG, that’s the owner of The Gilded Sage!] 

[Lexi’s stream cut out earlier–does anyone know what’s going on?] 

[What about the ‘poison chef‘? Why isn’t she in cuffs?] 

Soon, an official police report was released, detailing Julian’s 

crimes and clearing my name. 

The internet was ablaze with condemnation for Julian’s malice 

and Lexi’s troublemaking. 

People even dug up old videos of Lexi and Julian kissing, labeling them the ultimate “trash duo.” 

Angry locals swarmed the restaurant, spray–painting the 

walls, throwing rocks, and dumping trash. 

Within three days, the once–famous influencer bistro was a 

total wreck. 

The Gilded Sage was gone for good. 

The case was so high–profile that the trial drew massive 

attention. 

In court, faced with undeniable evidence, Julian didn’t even 

try to fight it. He confessed to everything and was sentenced 

to twenty years in prison. 

Lexi was given a severe judicial warning and public reprimand 

for her malicious defamation and rumor–mongering. 

As the trial ended and Julian was being led away to begin his 

sentence, he suddenly lunged at Lexi. 

He broke free from the guards and used his handcuffed hands to choke her, screaming: 

“It’s your fault! If you hadn’t livestreamed your stupid ‘jokes,‘ 

I never would have been caught! You ruined me!” 

Lexi’s face turned purple, her eyes rolling back as she 

struggled to breathe. 

Several officers rushed in to restrain Julian. 

Finally, Lexi collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, a bright red bruise marking her neck. 

She pointed a shaking finger at Julian and shrieked: 

“Give him the chair! He deserves to die!” 

The judge ruled that Julian’s outburst was an attempted murder in open court, and added another five years to his 

sentence. 

As the curtain fell on the trial, I straightened my coat and 

walked toward the exit. 

Behind me, Julian’s voice echoed: 

“Seraphina! I’m sorry!” 

“It was that bitch Lexi! Her big mouth dragged me into this 

hell!” 

I didn’t look back. I kept walking, my voice calm: 

“No. It was your own greed.” 

A man like him would never admit his own faults, even on his 

deathbed. 

Not long after, news reached me. 

After leaving court, Lexi found all her social media accounts banned and the whole internet hating her. Depressed and 

angry, she went back to street racing. 

On Blackwood Ridge Pass, she got into an argument with a group of bikers. She couldn’t help herself and started screaming insults again: 

“Those bikes look stolen! I hope the cops throw you all in the 

hole!” 

The bikers were enraged and began chasing and swerving at 

her car. 

Panicked, Lexi lost control, crashed through the guardrail, and plunged down the cliff. She died on impact. 

I wasn’t surprised by her end. 

Only when the date of my death in my previous life had finally passed did I truly feel at peace. 

Stepping outside into the warm sunlight, I felt a weight lift 

from my shoulders. 

From now on, the path ahead is bright and free of shadows.