Chapter 61

Serena's POV

The camera flashes exploded like lightning, capturing Nina's mask as it finally shattered.

"Infidelity can never be forgiven," I stated, my voice calm and clear. The scratching of pens ceased abruptly. "No circumstance, no excuse, no amount of time can justify betraying someone's trust that way."

A ripple went through the crowd. In my peripheral vision, I caught Nina's fingers tightening around her tissue.

"Miss Nina Sinclair," a reporter stood up, his expression hardening as he addressed Nina. "What about the photographs? The ones that were used to question your sister's reputation?"

Nina's response came too quickly. "I had nothing to do with those pictures," she protested, her hand unconsciously rising to fidget with her necklace. "Everything I've done has been for StarRiver's benefit. The autumn collection-"

"I think," I interrupted softly, reaching for my phone, "everyone might be more interested in this."

The recording began to play, Ian's voice filling the suddenly silent room:

"I am Ian Whitemore About that press conference tomorrow-could you make sure your people really keep an eye on things?"

"So, Mr. Whitemore, are you saying we should go easy on Serena Sinclair?" The voice on the other end distorted.

"No," Ian Whitemore promptly denied. "In fact, the opposite."

He went on, "Once tomorrow's done, I'll make sure to show my appreciation."

As the recording continued, I was acutely aware of every reaction in the room. The sharp intake of breath from the front row. The furious typing on laptops.

My mind drifted to the email I'd received from Lucas days ago. Just the files - no message, no instructions, no pressure. He'd given me complete freedom to decide whether to use them. The gesture spoke volumes about his respect for my autonomy, yet I couldn't help but maintain my guard. Trust, once broken, was like a cracked mirror - even when repaired, the lines remained visible.

Nina's complexion, already fair, turned ashen. I watched as her nails dug into her palm, leaving crescent-shaped marks. The reporters leaned forward in their seats, pens hovering over notepads, as Ian's voice filled the room.

"Miss Nina Sinclair," a reporter stood up, her voice sharp. "These recordings clearly show collusion between Ian Whitmore and you to sabotage StarRiver Group. How do you respond to this evidence?"

Nina's lips trembled before she forced them into a tight smile. "This is Ian's personal opinion and has nothing - ."

"Miss Nina," another reporter cut in, "StarRiver's recent booming sales have impacted Whitmore's market share. Is this your main motive for slandering Serena and StarRiver?"

"I-I really didn't..." Nina continued to stubbornly deny it. "I never meant... This isn't what it looks like!" Her eyes darted around the room. "Serena, please, you have to understand-"

I observed Nina's increasing agitation with detached interest. Her hands shook slightly as she adjusted her microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," I finally spoke, my voice steady and measured. "I didn't want to hold this conference. But when backed into a corner, sometimes the only way out is through the front door." The metaphor landed exactly as intended, drawing knowing nods from several veteran reporters.

Nina's breathing grew more erratic as I continued. I could sense her mounting fury at my composure.

"With the evidence now public, I believe everyone understands the whole story. Appreciate you all being here for today's press briefing."

"Oh, by the way, I have just one thing to say to Ian and Nina: I wish Ian and Nina all the happiness in the world together. May their relationship be as loyal as their business practices." I concluded, allowing the faintest smile to touch my lips.

The room erupted with questions, but I was already stepping away from the podium.