CHAPTER 80: MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

Eleanor’s POV

The motorhome hummed around me, a tinny, insulated sound that did nothing to block out the roaring in my ears.

I was vaguely aware of Mira’s voice, sharp and indignant, as she filled in Ben and Liam on the sordid details of my family.

"...and they’ve been leaching off her for years! That sister is a professional victim, and the ex is a walking red flag..."

My entire world had shrunk to the glowing screen in my hand, a portal to my own public execution. How could I possibly turn this around? Yes, I’d dragged Dickson out.

But only after he’d shown up uninvited, refusing to leave, and harrassing me. The public didn’t see the constant belittling, the way I’d shrunk myself to fit into the tiny box they demanded I live in.

And Priscilla. Still demanding that she needs my blood for her fake incurable illness.

A sharp tap on my shoulder jolted me from the spiral.

"Eleanor. Hey. You in there?" Roxy’s voice cut through the fog. "I’ve been calling your name. You’ve been staring at that phone for ten straight minutes."

I looked up, blinking.

"I’m just trying to figure out how to clear my name," I murmured, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

Roxy let out a low whistle. "Gonna be tough. They’ve got ’proof,’ even if it’s fake. You know how it is—lies travel halfway around the world before the truth even gets its boots on."

"I think I have to confront them directly," I said, the idea forming even as it terrified me.

Roxy raised an eyebrow. "You sure that’s smart? Going head-to-head with the family Mira just described as... what was it? ’Emotional vampires and a walking landfill of red flags’? That could blow up in your face and make everything worse."

"Do you have a better idea that doesn’t involve violence?" I asked.

Roxy opened her mouth, then snapped it shut with a grimace. "You just rejected my best idea without me even saying it."

Mira turned fully toward me, her expression shifting from outrage to strategic calculation. "Roxy’s right, a public confrontation is too risky. But what if you confronted them privately?" She leaned in, her eyes gleaming. "Get them to admit the truth on a recording."

"They’ll just deny it," I said, a cold resolve settling in my chest. "I’m done playing defense. I want to confront them publicly. But first, I’m going to deal with Dickson." I am done thinking that i can have peace when they exist. "I won’t let them keep doing this and getting away with it. Since they brought this to the internet, I won’t be holding back."

***

A few minutes later, I was sitting on a stool, my back straight. Mira set up a tripod with her phone, giving me a thumbs-up before starting the live stream. The viewer count began to climb almost instantly.

I took a deep breath and looked directly into the camera. "Hello, everyone. I’m Eleanor Moore, and I’m going to cut to the chase. What my family and Dickson have been saying about me is a lie."

My voice was steadier than I felt. "I’m about to post proof that Dickson is my ex. Our chats from two years ago, when we were in a relationship. The same year he got his job at Vexxon Tech because I helped him get hired." I could see the chat scrolling wildly.

"He manipulated me for years, using my ideas to climb the corporate ladder. At the time, I didn’t mind because I loved him—or I thought I did. But the relationship turned sour, and his true colors showed."

I shifted, my gaze hardening. "As for my family, I’ve never understood why they’ve hated me for as long as I can remember. But I never expected them to launch a public campaign to destroy my name."

I leaned forward slightly. "And about the club videos? Since when is it a crime to go out? Why am I being shamed as if I’m the only person who’s ever been to one?"

I took a final, steadying breath, the legal terms Mira had coached me on coming to the forefront. "I will not be judged and insulted based on their lies. Therefore, I am announcing my intention to sue my family for defamation and intentional infliction of emotional distress. And I will be suing Dickson for intellectual property theft, especially for the stolen ideas that earned him his promotion to Senior Manager. Thank you for listening."

Mira cut the stream. The silence that followed was deafening.

I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders slumping. "Did I... did I do alright?"

Mira was beaming. "You were perfect. Better than I imagined. I thought you might cry, but you held it together. You’re changing, Eleanor."

I nodded, but the composure was a fragile shell. Inside, I was shattered. The urge to cry was a physical pressure behind my eyes, but I had swallowed it down throughout the entire broadcast.

It was heartbreaking. These were people I had once cherished, people I had allowed to walk all over me for years. And they were the same people who had come back to stab me in the back and blame me for bleeding. What did I ever do to deserve such cruelty?

Mira held her phone out so I could see the flood of reactions. The internet was, as expected, tearing itself apart. Some comments were cautiously supportive: "Maybe we shouldn’t jump to conclusions," and "She seems sincere." But they were drowned out by a tidal wave of vitriol.

Who does she think she is? She got HIM a job at Vexxon? Please.

More like she begged him to get her a job and he said no.

Bet she slept her way in and is bitter he moved on.

My stomach churned. "The proof is all on my laptop," I said, my voice tight. "The designs, the code, our messages where he’s literally asking me to do his work for him. But it’s at your apartment."

"No problem," Mira said firmly. "We’ll go get it. And you’re not giving it to some middle manager. You’re taking it straight to the CEOs."

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "The triplets? They won’t want to get involved in this mess. It’ll go to their legal department, to people under them."

"It’s better to give it to them instead. Would they be that cruel to ignore it? You work for them. And more importantly, you’re their mate."

"They don’t believe that, and that reminds me. You didn’t tell me that its going to be very painful to reject a bond."

Mira’s expression shifted. "You never told me you tried to reject the bond."

"It happened last night. The pain... it was unbearable."

"Did they feel it too?" she asked, her voice dropping.

I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. "I saw it on their faces. I had to take the words back."

A knowing look dawned on Mira’s face. "Then they have to believe it, Eleanor. If they felt the rejection pain, then the bond is real. There’s no denying that. This shouldn’t involve just you. This is about their mate being publicly slandered. They can’t ignore that."

Mira stood up. "Then let’s go. No time to waste." I followed her out of the motor home, my mind a whirlwind.

As we stepped out into the hazy afternoon, a part of me hoped the brothers had already seen the news. They’d be disappointed, of course.

My ruined reputation was now a potential stain on their pristine company. Maybe this would be the final push they needed. They could tell me to leave, to get out of their lives for good.

I could go back to some semblance of a normal life—just focus on being a racer and maybe, finally, unravel the mystery of my own lineage without the complication of three infuriating mates.

We flagged down a taxi and slid into the back seat. I stared out the window as the Serpent’s Kiss faded behind us, wondering if I was driving toward a solution and final expulsion from the Vexxon world.

***

The final file finished copying to the flash drive with a soft click. Just as I closed the laptop, the low, aggressive rumble of multiple car engines filtered through the window.

Mira rushed to the curtain, peeking through the slit. "What the heck?" she whispered, her voice tense.

I snapped the laptop shut, clutching it to my chest as I joined her. My blood ran cold. A small convoy of expensive, intimidating cars was lined up right outside the apartment building.

"Who are they?" Mira breathed.

"Start a live stream," I told her, my voice surprisingly steady. "Right now. They won’t try anything stupid if the world is watching."

Mira fumbled for her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. "Live in three, two..."

We took a deep breath and stepped out of the apartment, descending the stairs to face them. The second our feet hit the pavement, the door of the lead car swung open.

I wasn’t surprised, but a fresh wave of anger and betrayal still hit me. Dickson stepped out, his face arranged in a mask of wounded righteousness. And there was Priscilla, clinging to his arm, her face pale and eyes wide with fake fragility.

I held the laptop tighter. "What are you doing here, Dickson?"

He offered me that sickeningly fake, patient smile I knew so well. "Eleanor, you’ve made some very serious, very public accusations. I’m just here to clear this up and get my proof." He stretched his hand out, his gaze fixed on the laptop. "I kindly ask you to hand it over."