Chapter 59: The Type Who Had to Control Everything

Everything was crystal clear.

Tilda hadn’t even touched Kyla—not a single hair! She had fallen all by herself.

With such clear evidence, even Russell and Howard were speechless. This time, they really had gotten it wrong. And worse—they’d been embarrassed in public.

“Count the trending scandal, the Wade thing, and now this…”

“Russell, that’s three times you’ve wrongly accused me. You even tried to hurt me, put me in danger again and again. And you call yourself a father? Please. You’re worse than trash.”

Russell’s face burned with shame as he was exposed in front of everyone. And this wasn’t the first time or the second. This was the third. At his age, Russell had never felt so humiliated. Each word was like a knife and each fact a slap. And the worst part—the person tearing him apart was his own daughter.

Even Howard fell silent. His earlier arrogance disappeared.

“Ahem…”

A rough, awkward cough broke the quiet.

“Daddy, Howard… I already said it. I tripped. Tilda didn’t push me…”

Kyla’s voice was soft, weak. But inside, she felt relieved, because this was always her backup plan. If she hadn’t stuck to that story, she might have gone down with it all.

But one question still nagged her. What kind of phone is Tilda using? Recording our voices through clothes is one thing—but video this sharp?

Thank God I didn’t slip earlier when sparring with Tilda. Thank God I kept denying it like glue. If I had cracked for even a second, I’d be done. No. I can’t risk being alone with Tilda again. One-on-one means danger. It could be a trap.

“Sull, thank you Mr. Russell. Before the trial even starts, you just handed me perfect proof. Po, do me a favor: Get ready for court and practice your apology.”

With that, Tilda spun on her heel and walked away.

“Wait, Tilda!”

Russell jumped up. He couldn’t let her leave. “You’re really going to take me to court? I’m your father! No matter what, you still have Jenson blood in your veins!”

Tilda didn’t turn. Her voice was cold as ice. “You wronged me. And you ask why I’d sue you? Heh. Apologize right here, to me and Una, and I might let it go.”

“What…”

Russell’s pride caught in his throat.

Apologize? To Tilda and Una? How would I face the rest of the family after that?

“You can’t? Then see you in court. And this time, you’ll lose. Guaranteed.”

Tilda saw straight through him. Russell was the type who did wrong but made excuses—he always blamed his love for family and his overprotectiveness for his rash choices. But excuses didn’t erase the damage. If excuses fixed everything, why have laws? Why have police? Were people supposed to swallow their pain just because the Jensons were powerful?

But Tilda was determined to teach the old man a lesson, even if it was the last thing she’d do.

Russell could only stand there, frozen, watching her leave.

“Daddy, Howard, what do we do? If Tilda really sues, won’t we be a punchline? Daddy, please talk to her. Honestly, Tilda doesn’t stand a chance against you….”

Kyla’s voice was soft, trembling like she was weak. But inside, she was gloating.

If Tilda and the Jensons tear each other apart in court to the point of no return, they’ll never take her back, no matter how much they lean toward Tilda. Dad will definitely win. Even if he misunderstood Tilda, she doesn’t have proof. What power does Tilda have? She’s just a college student—alone, powerless, stripped of the Jenson name. And she thinks she can sue us? That’s not brave—that’s suicide.

“This time… it won’t be that simple.”

Russell’s face darkened. He had come to Orica University to confront Tilda for what she did and to ask how she had met Andy. But after her icy defiance, asking now would only humiliate him more. Now, he was trapped, with no way forward and no way back.

Night fell.

Tilda drove her Porsche Cayenne, dropping Una off first. She waved goodbye and headed home.

Right then, her phone buzzed. It was Jude.