Chapter 8
Once Amanda’s condition had stabilized, I walked out of the hospital, driven by a fiery urge to unearth the truth.
As I gazed at the findings, fury surged through me, and I hurled the report to the floor.
The document suggested the car crash was merely an unfortunate twist of fate.”
The driver’s wife had gone into labor, and in his haşte, he had collided with Amanda’s car.
Amanda was knocked unconscious, while the driver, barely injured, quickly sought help for his wife, even assisting in pulling Amanda from the wreckage.
It all seemed too perfect.
No matter how many times I reviewed the report, the facts remained the same.
Yet, deep in my gut, I knew the accident wasn’t random, I knew who was behind it, even if I lacked the proof.
Blinded by rage, I stormed into Helen’s villa.
I grabbed her by the hair and slapped her hard across the face.
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She screamed, but I didn’t stop.
Dragging her like a ragged doll, I threw her into the bathroom. The sound of her gasping for air was music to my ears. I filled the bathtub with cold water and shoved her head under, again and again.
Between her choked sobs, I screamed, “Was it you? Tell me! Those were four lives you ruined! How dare you! How could you let innocent people die for your selfish desires? You believe you can keep it all hidden? You don’t want to speak? Alright, that’s just perfect. I’ll beat the truth out of you if I have to.”
Helen clenched her teeth, refusing to speak.
Just as I was about to make her suffer more, Bruce burst into the room. In a split second, he backhanded me so hard that my vision blurred. The stinging slap numbed half my face, but through the haze, I saw Helen’s fleeting, triumphant smile.
Something wasn’t right. If this had only been Helen’s doing, Bruce wouldn’t have defended her so fiercely.
There was more to this.
As I rubbed my stinging cheek, my mind raced. Then I remembered a small detail I’d overlooked.
When Bruce’s hand came down on me, the bracelet with its red beads slipped into view from beneath his sleeve. A shiver coursed through me. I recognized the implication all too well.
Bruce, a man who always dismissed superstitions, had turned to dark forces.
Growing up in a rural background, he had always been averse to anything supernatural, but now, it seemed he had embraced it.
The following day, I inquired with the nurse about the room where the wife of the driver was staying.
Carrying a fruit basket, I made my way to her room.
She was reclined in the bed. Her features were exquisitely delicate. Beside her stood a man tending to her with the utmost care. It dawned on me then why our destinies were the ones twisted by malice.
Upon my entrance, the man’s expression barely shifted to surprise.
His influence and means dwarfed my own; he likely knew I would come all along.
He was John Brown, the CEO of the company that stood as Bruce’s fiercest competitor. Their corporations like fire and water for supremacy in the entertainment sector.
were perpetually at odds, clashing
But John was different from Bruce. He didn’t possess the same cutthroat edge, or at least, not in the manner Bruce did.
We made a pact then and there.
I would enlist Mike to break the dark forces controlling Bruce.
John, in turn, would manage the media storm, using his expertise in the entertainment industry to sway public opinion.
Soon after, a juicy piece of gossip hit the news, topping trending searches for days.
The article depicted John as a vengeful executive who, in a fury over a failed investment, deliberately reversed his car to injure his rival’s
former partner.
The story cast Bruce as the epitome of fatherly affection towards the daughter from his previous marriage. He regularly took his daughter to school himself, a fact her classmates could all confirm.
Did this act reflect a perversion of character or a decline in ethics?
As the debate online intensified, opinions swirled, yet the tide of public sentiment largely supported Bruce, who used the situation to his advantage.
He held a press conference, basking in the attention like a pig in mud.
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Watching him smirk into the cameras, I sneered, “The good days are yet to come. Don’t get too cocky.”
John strategically scheduled his press conference for the exact same time, sparking online chatter about an impending rivalry between the
two.
My phone buzzed; it was Bruce, demanding I attend his conference to play the part of the dutiful daughter.
I agreed without hesitation. After all, the show couldn’t go on without me.
The online world was abuzz with speculation.
John’s company was witnessing a continuous drop in stock value.
The anticipation for the press conference was palpable, and when the day arrived, both locations were thronged with reporters.
We were met with an onslaught of lenses and mics as soon as we stepped in.
Following Bruce’s fervent address, he beckoned me to come forward for a warm interaction.
I rose, approached his side, and addressed the crowd through the microphone.
“My dad is truly a great person. Not only is he amazing to me, but he’s also wonderful to his son who isn’t actually his.”
I pressed a button, and the large screen behind us flickered to life.
The first slide displayed a paternity test result, proving there was no biological connection between Bruce and his son. Then came the photos of Helen’s infidelities.
There she was, partying with male models and engaging in group debauchery. Worst of all, she even coerced minors for her twisted desires.
Bruce’s face turned a sickly shade of green, his eyes bulging with fury as he turned to glare at Helen.
Helen, from her seat in the crowd, was abruptly thrust into the spotlight by the throng of reporters.
Her face was illuminated by the incessant flicker of camera flashes, creating a vivid spectrum across her features.
Her son, only three and oblivious to the gravity of the situation, pointed at the screen and innocently shouted, “Mommy.”
The atmosphere surged with heightened excitement.
As I observed Helen teetering on the edge of collapse, a wave of exhilaration washed over me.
Yet, this was merely the opening act; if this was already too much for her, what would she do when faced with the forthcoming revelations? Meanwhile, at John’s press conference, everything was serene, almost joyful in contrast to Bruce’s chaos.
Mike had seamlessly transitioned back into his role as an influencer with a massive following, instantly engaging his audience with a live.
Mike, now a viral online celebrity with millions of followers, began a live show.
Whenever a reporter tried to disrupt the calm with malicious questions, Mike would offer them a free reading. One by one, they were stunned into silence, forgetting their mission as they eagerly asked about their futures, like wealth, career, and love life.
But Mike was waiting for the perfect moment. The divine timing had to be just right.
As the energy in the room reached its peak, he focused, his face growing grave.
He moved the beads on his wrist rapidly, chanting under his breath.
“Break!”
Then, he snapped the spell into place.
Back at Bruce’s conference, chaos erunted as be
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Back at Bruce’s conference, chaos erupted as both Bruce and Helen collapsed, vomiting filth. Blood mixed with their bile as they writhed on he floor, clutching their stomachs in agony.
“This is backlash,” I announced to the stunned reporters. “They tried to alter my mother’s fate and John’s family’s fate with dark magic. Now, hey’re reaping what they sowed.”
The media was in a frenzy, their cameras capturing every gruesome detail.
In the days that followed, Grandeur Entertainment’s stock plummeted, hitting the limit down repeatedly.
John seized the opportunity, buying up shares and taking control of the company.
Amanda’s health improved, and John was busy managing the merger.
Bruce and Helen, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky.
When the fortress crumbled, it seemed like everyone was eager to give it a shove.
Bruce, through the years, had amassed a legion of adversaries.
Now, one scandal after another surfaced like waves crashing against a weakening dam.
He was exposed for abusing his company power to coerce female artists, while Helen was sentenced to twelve years for her involvement in coercing minors.
The floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping the avalanche of their sins.
Grandeur Entertainment was found guilty of massive tax evasion, amounting to hundreds of millions.
Numerous local officials were implicated as accomplices; their dirty secrets were exposed for the world to see.
Female artists who had been treated as bargaining chips within the company finally had their voices heard.
The industry was rocked by stories of abuse, manipulation, and coercion.
One actress, driven to despair years ago, had jumped to her death.
The world had turned its back on them. They truly got what they deserved.
Helen, once known for her beauty and rebellious spirit, found herself harshly disciplined in prison. Her life of luxury was gone, replaced by the cold, bitter reality of living off others‘ charity.
It was a fitting end for someone who had built her life on the wealth and status of a rich husband.
With both Bruce and Helen in jail, my brother was left unattended.
His biological father, ashamed and unwilling to be involved, wanted nothing to do with him.
I couldn’t forget how, in my past life, this little boy had been cruelly violent, eventually killing me in a senseless act of rage.
I found it impossible to approach him with an open heart, even though he was now just a child.
I set up an evaluation for chromosomal anomalies, and as expected, he was diagnosed with XYY syndrome, commonly associated with
heightened aggression.
During this period, Amanda was released from the hospital because her health was completely restored.
We decided to enroll him in a specialized school focused on behavioral correction.
I consulted Mike, asking him about the boy’s fate. “Will he be reborn into the animal realm?”
Mike glanced at me. “His genes weren’t his choice. It depends on his karma after intervention.”
With everything resolved, I was keen to get back to my studies and witness all the wonders I missed out on in my previous existence.
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