Even Marcus seemed impressed.
“You’re going to ambush them,” he said.
“No,” I replied smoothly. “I’m going to correct the record.”
The elevator doors opened.
The lobby was chaos.
Cameras.
Microphones.
Shouting reporters.
Security holding a thin line.
As soon as we stepped out, the noise doubled.
“Mrs. Amber! Is the video real?” “Did you cheat on your husband?” “Mr. Sun, are you filing for divorce?” “Was the marriage staged?”
Jason’s hand slid to the small of my back.
Steady.
Grounding.
Protective.
But he didn’t step in front of me.
He stepped beside me.
Equal.
I lifted my chin slightly.
“No questions until the conference begins,” I stated calmly.
Flash.
Flashi
Flash.
We moved through the storm of voices toward the private entrance leading upstairs.
Marcus leaned closer.
“They’re expecting you to defend yourself.”
I smiled faintly.
“That’s their first mistake.”
Jason glanced at me sideways.
“And the second?”
“That I ever needed defending.”
The elevator doors closed again.
Silence returned.
For a brief moment.
Jason looked at me with quiet approval.
“You’re enjoying this,” he observed.
“Yes,” I admitted.
Because this time-
I wasn’t walking into that building to explain myself.
I was walking in to expose them.
And the timing-
Would be perfect.
The conference room was packed.
Reporters shoulder to shoulder.
Cameras already live.
Streaming platforms counting viewers in real time.
The same building.
The same polished marble floors.
The same towering glass walls.
But today-
The air felt different.
I walked onto the stage without rushing.
Jason remained to the side, visible but not central.
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315
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Intentional.
This was my platform.
The whispers softened.
The flashes slowed.
I stepped to the podium.
Adjusted the microphone.
And smiled.
“Good morning.”
My voice carried clearly across the room.
“I see there are many questions circulating.”
A few nervous laughs.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to reclaim full control.
“But today,” I continued evenly, “is not about edited clips or speculative headlines.”
A pause.
“It is about expansion.”
A subtle shift in the room.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
“My name is Amber Asher.”
Clear.
Unapologetic.
“And today, I am formally introducing Phoenix Ashes Conglomerate.”
The name echoed through the room.
Screens behind me illuminated – a stylized phoenix rising from fractured ash.
“Phoenix Ashes Conglomerate is a diversified holdings company focusing on strategic acquisitions in infrastructure, transportation, real estate redevelopment, and private asset management.”
Reporters scribbled quickly.
“This company was built on assets I personally acquired, protected, and expanded.”
No hesitation.
“No inheritance. No borrowed name.”
The statement landed.
“Over the past weeks, we have secured majority ownership in three supply chain companies, one transportation firm, and two redevelopment projects previously stalled due to mismanagement.”
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Murmurs.
That was new information.
“And this is only phase one.”
I stepped slightly aside.
“There is someone I would like to formally introduce.”
Clara stepped forward.
Composed.
Sharp.
Professional.
“Clara Vale,” I announced, “Head of Operations for Phoenix Ashes Conglomerate.”
There were visible reactions in the room.
Some recognized her.
Some understood exactly what that meant.
“Clara brings extensive experience in operational restructuring and high-growth corporate transitions. Many of the systems she designed in previous companies are still in use today.”
A quiet blade.
Precise.
“She will oversee execution across all divisions as we expand.”
Clara inclined her head slightly, meeting the cameras without flinching.
The message was unmistakable:
We are organized.
We are prepared.
We are not reacting.
I returned to the podium.
“This morning was meant to be about something else.”
The room leaned forward.
“But we will not allow distraction to dictate our direction.”
Jason stood behind me – present but not overshadowing.
Aligned. 1
Not leading.
“Phoenix Ashes is not a response to scandal.”
I paused deliberately.
す
“It is a declaration of growth.”
The phoenix glowed brighter on the screen.
“And unlike ash,” I finished calmly, “we do not scatter.”
Silence.
Then applause.
Measured.
Respectful.
The narrative was shifting in real time.
And we had only just begun. 1
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The readers' comments on the novel: A Woman Worth Billions Dated the Wrong Brother
Chapter 467 seems to be missing...
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