Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife (Izzy) novel Chapter 224

Tomatoes and Eggs

The murmurs started in waves. Phones lit up. Thumbs moved fast. Maria could see it before she even heard it–a change in the room’s atmosphere. The press row on the left turned into a sea of whispering mouths and shifting glances.

Then someone shouted, “Is it true?”

Another voice broke in, louder, more desperate. “Sarano’s been hospitalized?”

“What happened?”

“Was it an overdose?”

The word stuck like a blade. Maria’s stomach dropped. Her fingers went numb around the folder in her hand. Cassandra Sarano was in the hospital?

Almost immediately, the moderator stepped forward, lifting his mic. “Please-

“Sleeping pills,” someone said. “It’s trending already. Multiple sources say she took an entire bottle-

“-found unconscious in her penthouse. It’s confirmed!”

The press went into a frenzy.

“Ms. Alcaraz! Did you know she was in this state?”

“Was this triggered by your lawsuit?”

“Isabella Rossi pushed her too far–is that your position?”

Maria tried to raise her voice. “No statement–please, we will confirm details once verified-

“Are you saying this isn’t real?”

A flash from the left. A reporter’s mic was thrust toward her. Another camera followed, nearly hitting her shoulder Then a woman from the back screamed, “You people drove her to this!”

Security immediately shifted forward, but they weren’t fast enough. The back barrier collapsed.

Five–no, six individuals in fan gear pushed into the conference area. Shirts with Cassandra’s name. Bracelets. Phone cameras are already recording. The first one hurled a tomato that burst against Nolan Reeve’s chest. He jerked back, stunned.

Then another came flying. It hit Maria square on the side. Her blazer instantly soaked with thick, acidic pulp. “Stop!” the moderator yelled. “Security!”

Eggs came next. One splattered on the table beside the podium. Another struck a Horvath junior counsel in the cheek. He went down hard.

“You think we’re stupid?!” one of the intruders yelled. “You silence her, then throw lawsuits at her?!”

“She was crying out for help!”

A bottle skidded across the floor and slammed into Maria’s ankle. The sharp sting cut through the noise, grounding her. Behind her, Nolan grabbed her arm. “Move!”

Maria ducked as another object flew past her head. She heard the smack of a chair falling. Tripods clattered. A blogger screamed.

Fans climbed onto the low stage.

“She OD’ed because of you!” one of them yelled, shaking.

Chaos immediately broke out.

Security tackled two intruders. Others slipped free. One fan lunged for the mic and screamed into it. The speaker

screeched as her voice cracked through it: “You’re going to pay for what you did to her!”

Someone threw a phone. It hit a spotlight and shattered the bulb. Sparks snapped as the metal rig shook.

Maria stumbled back, pulled by Nolan. Her shoes slid on the egg–soaked floor. Security finally pushed a path open behind

the curtain.

Another egg exploded against her back just before she slipped into the wings.

“Go–now, Nolan barked, his own suit covered in red stains.

Backstage, the noise was muffled. Maria leaned against the wall, breath heavy, heart hammering. Her thoughts tried to catch up.

Overdose. Sleeping pills. Cassandra Sarano was unconscious.

1/3

Tomairing anal Co

Her eyes narrowed.

Cassandra had always been calculated.

And this?

This felt like another performanc&

Maris kept her head low se Nolan pulled her down the side corridor. Their footsteps echoed against the concrete floor Behind them the holes from the press room was sill erupting–shooting objects crashing, the unmistakable sound of steel stanchions being knocked over

They turned the corner, only to find another hallway filled with people. Cameramen Reporters. Some wore badges. Others didn’t. A few shoved phones into their faces Flashes popped again.

“Atty Alcaraz, do you deny pushing her into this?*

“What do you say about the overdose?”

“Isabelle Rossi–Horvath hiding now? is she not strong enough to face the consequences”

“Is this legal retaliation or emotional warfare?”

Nolan stepped in front of her “Clear a path”

However, no one moved

The reporters pressed in closer. Several microphones were shoved toward her chest. A boom mic bumped her shoulder. Maria tried to push past but was blocked by a woman waving a phone in her face, recording.

“Maria Alcaraz, how do you justify your actions now?”

“Were you aware Cassandra was mentally unwell?”

“Why did your legal team continue the filing after she begged for silence?”

Another person pushed forward, shouting. “This was planned, wasn’t it? You knew she’d break!”

An egg splattered on the floor beside Maria’s foot. She flinched.

Nolan gritted his teeth. He placed his arm in front of her again, shielding her as best as he could. Two junior associates flanked them, trying to widen the path. It didn’t help. Phones hovered inches away from Maria’s face. Some people were filming vertically. Others live–streaming. She could hear their viewers in real–time.

“She’s here. That’s her.”

“This is the woman who helped smear Cass.”

A fan tried to shove a tablet at her. It showed a picture of Cassandra’s smiling face–one of the press kit images from last year. “You see this? She was good to people. She didn’t deserve this.”

Someone else grabbed Maria’s elbow. “Why won’t you say something?! Say you regret it!”

Security wasn’t in sight. Another object–this time a plastic cup–hit Nolan’s shoulder and bounced off.

More shouting. More flashes. One man stepped in front of Maria and blocked her path entirely, forcing her to stop. He lowered his camera and held out a paper. “Look at this. Her final post. Look at what she said. This is on you.”