Chapter 17

“Daphne! That recording knocked the latest trending topic off the list! You have to see this!”

Ava approached, phone in hand, her face alight with excitement. “The internet knows you’ve been framed!”

Daphne opened her phone and saw the post: “Ten-Second Recording—Yvonne Smith.” It had amassed over 100,000 comments in minutes; the replies were a riot. Some examples included:

“Ugh, protecting her, huh?” “Match made in hell. A cheat and a homewrecker—gross.” “Trash loves trash. Perfect pairing! I hope they rot…” “Wait, so Daphne didn’t cheat during her marriage? Was that a lie?” “That voice clearly belongs to Wilson. He said it himself. How could it be fake?”

The ten-second recording didn’t even show Wilson’s face. Shifting public opinion with such limited evidence wouldn't be easy, but Daphne didn't need a complete victory. Her goal was simple: maximum exposure. The more people who heard it, the better her chances.

As expected, the recording was wiped from the internet within an hour. Every trace vanished. The speed of the cleanup confirmed Wilson's involvement.

Daphne remained calm, immediately contacting several media outlets. “Post it everywhere—TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, every platform with an audience. Spread it!”

After hanging up, she smirked. “Wilson, let’s see if you can pull it down faster than I can post it.”

Wilson had taken down every post Daphne uploaded. Ten minutes later, he snapped, calling Wendy’s number, his voice seething.

“Daphne, did you seriously block me? You’ve got some guts, huh?”

His anger was palpable.

Daphne replied casually, “Why would I keep irrelevant contacts? What do you want? If it’s nothing important, I’m hanging up.”

“You set me and Yvonne up last night at the lounge, didn’t you?” Wilson demanded.

Daphne chuckled at his slow realization. Wary of being recorded herself, she answered cautiously, “What are you talking about? I was trying to get answers. You two pushed me too far. I had no choice but to reveal the truth.”

“That recording was edited.”

“Was it? I posted what you said, word for word.” Daphne sat down, utterly relaxed. If Wilson and Yvonne were furious, she was pleased.

“Don’t pin this on me, Mr. Farrell.”

Wilson went silent. After a long pause, his icy voice cut through just as Daphne was about to hang up. “Do you think this will hurt Yvonne? Let me make it clear—while I’m around, you won’t lay a finger on her.”

He hung up. Daphne stared at the dark screen, shaking her head at his pathetic loyalty to his mistress.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ava’s shout. “Daphne! Check this out!” Ava held up her phone, practically vibrating. “Look at this trending topic—our video made the list! #FalseRumorsWhatAJoke”

Daphne was surprised to see the tag climbing the charts. The post included a short interview with the restaurant staff she’d paid to confirm she was meeting Sebastian for work. They even included a non-suggestive photo of them at dinner.

Previously unnoticed, the video had exploded in less than 30 seconds. The internet was buzzing.

“See? Total lies. Sue the hell out of them, Daphne!” “This is ridiculous! Who cheats in a packed restaurant? These people don’t even use their brains.” “Lying scumbags! Hope they get what’s coming.”

Daphne scrolled, noticing the tide turning in her favor.

Ava said, “If this keeps up, you could clear your name and cancel that contract with Hugo. It’s strange—why hasn’t this post been taken down? Every other one disappeared in minutes.”

Daphne smiled at the growing buzz. She called Sebastian.

He answered, his voice light and teasing, “Ms. Yeager, did that trending topic appear at the perfect time, or what?”

Daphne smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Turner. I owe you one. Let me know if you ever need anything.”

“Come on, you’re my future wife. Looking out for you is the least I can do.”

His flirtatious tone made her blush, though she rolled her eyes. “Alright, future husband. Just let me know when you need me to meet your parents.”

Sebastian chuckled. “You’re in such a rush to tie the knot, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m old and desperate. Are you happy to hear me say that?”

Daphne knew a short audio recording wouldn't be enough against Wilson, but Sebastian was someone Wilson couldn't easily manipulate. With Sebastian on her side, her chances soared. This round was hers.

She celebrated with Ava and Wendy, sipping cocktails until she was buzzed. When the cab dropped her off, she noticed something strange. Her driveway was packed with workers removing things from her house.

The sight sobered her instantly.

“What the hell are you doing? Put that down! Who gave you the right to touch my stuff?” she yelled, storming toward them.

Wilson’s voice came from the living room. “Relax, Daphne. My money paid for those things.”

Wilson sat on the couch, cool and dispassionate. Yvonne sat beside him, eyes puffy from crying, looking pitifully innocent.

Wilson’s voice was ice-cold. “I said the house was yours. I never said the furniture was.”

Daphne’s gaze swept across the empty living room. They had taken everything—even the rugs and curtains.

Yvonne’s soft, trembling voice cut through. “Do you have to be this cruel to Daphne, Wilson? Sure, I didn’t expect her to record us and splice it together, but she probably didn’t mean to…”

Daphne felt nauseous. “Shut up! Just hearing you talk makes me sick.”

Yvonne shrank behind Wilson. “Wilson…”

“Don’t worry. No one will hurt you,” Wilson assured her, his voice firm and protective.

Drunk and fuming, Daphne grabbed a golf club and charged forward. “Wilson, I swear, you and that tramp are not taking a damn thing from this house!”

Wilson stood, easily overpowering her. He wrenched the club from her hands and tossed it aside. “Are you saying this is your house? Please. Your house is back in the middle of nowhere.”

His words stung. Daphne was used to his cruelty, but it still hurt.

Yvonne whispered, “Don’t be mad, Wilson. I don’t mind being dragged through the mud online. It’s just a few more days on the trending list.”