Chapter 12

Daphne sat curled on the couch, hugging her knees. The curtains were tightly drawn, blocking out even the faintest sunlight.

Seven years—seven full years supposed to be Daphne's prime—had been wasted, crumbling into a bitter ending. Her fingertips trembled as she thought about it. She closed her eyes, trying to stop replaying memories of her time with Wilson. Everything beautiful had been reduced to a broken, jagged mess.

Daphne longed for peace, but someone was determined to deny it to her. The door opened, and Wilson walked in. Since their last disastrous encounter, he hadn't set foot in the villa.

"Vonnie's trending scandal. Is that your doing?" Wilson got straight to the point. A bandage covered his temple, but it did nothing to diminish his striking appearance.

Daphne turned away in disgust, finding it exhausting to waste even a word on him. "If you think it was me, then sure, it was."

"I've warned you repeatedly to leave her alone. Why can't you listen?" Wilson yanked at his tie in frustration, then kicked the door shut. "We're already legally divorced. Do you think pulling stunts like this will win me back? Let me make it clear—I'm not coming back."

"Ugh, who's trying to win you back? That's cocky," Daphne scoffed coldly, standing to pull open the curtains. "And let me remind you—your little statement today is built entirely on lies. We haven't even finalized the divorce yet. I can prove Yvonne's affair by showing the certificate's date, which will clearly be later than when you and Yvonne got 'involved.'"

"Go ahead and try," Wilson said through gritted teeth, his icy gaze hiding an indecipherable emotion.

Daphne didn't care to decipher it. Since Wilson had thrown down the gauntlet, she gladly accepted the challenge. She pulled out her phone, opened her drafts, and posted the exposé she'd been holding onto, with a single tap. She hadn't dared publish it in her past life, afraid it would destroy any chance of reconciliation. But in this life, he'd made things unbearable. If he wanted war, then war it would be.

The post contained hard evidence, including photos and documents, leaving Yvonne no room to deny it. Within minutes, the hashtag #DaphneExposesYvonneAsAHomewrecker replaced the previous trending topic, shooting to the top of the list. The comments and likes skyrocketed, breaking records. It had over a million likes and hundreds of thousands of comments in no time.

Daphne's massive fanbase descended like a storm, flooding Yvonne's fan pages and hijacking her latest promotional post with scathing comments. The top replies were overtaken by insults calling her a homewrecker.

Wilson had no idea. He sat in the room with a dark expression, watching Daphne scroll through her phone with a small smirk.

The silence broke only when Yvonne called him, crying.

"Will, Daphne… Why does she have to hurt me like this? Everyone is attacking me. I don't want to live anymore. I just love you so much. What did I do wrong? Love isn't about who came first. It's just that we met at the wrong time. I understand if Daphne hates me, but if she wants to punish someone, she should punish me alone. Why drag you down with her? Will, take care of yourself. I… I don't have the courage to stay with you any longer. I'm going to leave this world."

Daphne rolled her eyes. What a performance. Which genuinely suicidal person would announce their suicide in advance? With acting skills like that, Yvonne should try her luck on the big screen.

"What have you done?" Wilson's expression darkened further.

Daphne lifted her phone, waving the screen. "Didn't you tell me to try? So, I did." What was the worst that could happen? Dying again?

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Wilson focused on calming Yvonne down. "Be good. Don't do anything rash. I'll take care of this. Just stay where you are, and don't move. I'll be there right away."

Worried that Yvonne might actually do something drastic, Wilson didn't waste another second arguing with Daphne. He left, shooting her a sharp, warning look.

Daphne knew she'd pushed Wilson to his breaking point. But having come this far, why would she care what he thought? Her evidence was airtight, enough to permanently ruin Yvonne's reputation. It should have been a decisive victory.

However, Daphne underestimated how far Wilson would go for Yvonne. Within half a day, the top trending topic was no longer Daphne's exposé or Wilson's statement. Instead, it was far more damning: #DaphneCheatedDuringHerMarriage. The title was as succinct as it was incriminating.

Her expression darkened as she clicked on the trending post, revealing photos of her having dinner with Sebastian. The angles were deliberately misleading, making their proximity seem unusually intimate.

"Well played, Wilson Farrell. You're truly a master at settling scores," Daphne muttered. She had barely exposed Yvonne when Wilson retaliated with her own scandal. He must have anticipated this move.

Yvonne must have staged a dramatic "suicide" act to get Wilson to go to such lengths. Daphne wondered if he wasn't worried she might fight back.

She carefully read the fabricated article. It painted her as someone who had cheated on Wilson, juggling him and Sebastian. The post was packed with fabricated details, written as though entirely factual. Every sentence aimed to tear her down while elevating Yvonne, portraying her as an angelic savior who rescued Wilson from being "cheated on" and didn't deserve the backlash. It accused Daphne's exposé of being a manipulative ploy to play the victim, alleging she'd been unfaithful first and was now using her fanbase to control public opinion. The entire post reeked of a hired writer's handiwork, with the only truthful parts being the punctuation marks.

"What garbage! Ninety-nine percent of this is utter nonsense!" Daphne fumed, tossing her phone onto the couch. Wilson's desperation was obvious. His methods were as despicable as they were in her past life.

Still seething, Daphne's phone buzzed incessantly with messages from unknown numbers. The harassment had begun—vulgar texts and phone calls poured in relentlessly.

"Slut! How shameless can you be? You cheated and then went to accuse Yvonne? Mr. Farrell was right to dump you! Watch out for karma and be careful when you step outside!"

"Yvonne and Mr. Farrell are a perfect match. You can't even compare to Yvonne. You're nothing but a cheap tramp!"

"You immoral, promiscuous mess. Get out of the entertainment industry! I'll rate every one of your works one star from now on."

Each message was more vile than the last. Very few people knew her private number, yet the flood of messages made it clear someone had leaked her information. It wasn't hard to guess who—Wilson's camp, of course.

Meanwhile, the entertainment industry, quiet for so long, erupted with unprecedented fervor as this scandal fueled the internet's obsession with gossip.