Chapter 231
After being discharged from the hospital, Michelle posted a short vlog online to reassure her followers that she was safe.
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
Messages flooded in—some urging her to rest, others begging her to return to the entertainment industry. Within hours, what had been a fading controversy reignited into a full-scale media storm.
Later that day, Michelle appeared in a livestream of her own.
She didn’t return to entertainment as people expected.
Instead, she announced a career shift—into journalism.
Her focus would be public-interest reporting and charity interviews, working closely with foundations and social welfare organizations.
The Keller family already had strong ties with multiple nonprofits. Within a short time, several organizations publicly expressed support, and Michelle’s follower count surged again, climbing by hundreds of thousands overnight.
Ethan watched the livestream with a faint curve of amusement in his eyes.
So she wasn’t entirely na?ve after all.
What looked like vulnerability was carefully measured—painful enough to gain sympathy, but controlled enough to turn that sympathy into momentum.
And it worked.
He leaned back slightly, tapped his phone, and called Clarice.
The situation with the man who had attacked Khloe had already been contained. Nick was investigating it personally, but no matter how deep he dug, the trail would not lead to Clarice or Ethan.
The man had a long-standing hatred of Niel—and more importantly, he had once been deeply infatuated with Clarice. Ethan had only needed to hint at her “trouble,” and the man had eagerly stepped into the role of a weapon.
People always believed they were acting on their own desires.
But in reality, desire was often just something carefully guided.
Now, the situation was moving exactly as they wanted.
Keller family projects would gradually shift into Ethan and Clarice’s sphere of influence, isolating Khloe from one of her strongest external alliances.
The Morrison family already controlled key industries in Goldmont City. On the surface, the Keller family seemed like just another powerful business entity—but Ethan knew better. Behind them stood foundations, funding networks, and influence that reached into public institutions themselves.
A different kind of power.
Clarice preferred direct pressure.
Ethan preferred time.
He was patient. Strategic. The kind of man who waited until the blade had already entered before the other side realized they were bleeding.
After ending the call, Ethan opened his laptop.
An encrypted email from Fox Group was waiting.
Since his investment, Fox Group has revived several stalled projects. In return, they had quietly offered him participation in a major strategic development, clearly hoping to deepen their ties with Morrison Group.
A faint, sardonic smile appeared on Ethan’s lips.
He didn’t even read the full proposal.
He simply replied with a meeting invitation.
If Khloe showed up and saw him there—facing her past head-on—
He almost looked forward to it.
That evening, Trey lay in bed with a lingering fever.
By the time night fell, the worst of the headache had eased, and he finally managed to sit up.
The room was dark and quiet. Only the faint ticking of the clock filled the silence.
It felt unfamiliar.
Empty.
Trey had always suffered from severe migraines. In the past, Khloe would always be there during those episodes.
She would bring medicine, water, and food. Sometimes she worked quietly beside him; sometimes she simply stayed until he fell asleep.
And when he woke—
She was always there.
“Feeling better? Do you need to go to the hospital? Take your medicine first.”
For a moment, her voice seemed to echo in the room.
So real that he almost believed it.
“Khloe…”
Trey frowned slightly and reached out instinctively.
His hand met nothing but air.
“Who are you calling?”
Angela’s voice cut through the silence as she entered the room, carrying his meal on a tray.
She paused when she saw his posture.
Trey withdrew his hand slowly, expression hardening again.
“I want water,” he said flatly, not looking at her.
Angela set the tray down without a word. The warmth in her expression faded.
After a moment of silence, she turned and left the room again—her footsteps sharp against the floor.