From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 120

The blinding flash of cameras illuminated her pale, resolute face as the reporters screamed their questions in a chaotic frenzy.

Her grip on the microphone tightened.

In this exact moment, the terrifying reality set in: she had absolutely no one standing behind her.

But it didn't matter. She would burn The Foster Group to the ground with her own two hands.

Just like her mother had bravely done all those years ago.

"Mrs. Foster, did Ms. Sutton push you into the ocean out of a twisted romantic obsession?"

"Are you planning to file criminal charges?"

"Mr. Foster... Mr. Foster!"

The reporters suddenly started screaming past her.

Lydia turned around. Frederick was walking slowly toward her, exuding an aura of terrifying wealth and power. His brow was heavy with irritation, but his eyes were completely dead, devoid of a single human emotion.

She turned back to the cameras, her voice ringing out crystal clear. "I am officially filing charges against Sierra for attempted murder. Furthermore, I will be filing against Mr. Frederick Foster for..."

The press corps surged forward, practically vibrating with anticipation, but Lydia suddenly froze.

Jordan Drake, Charles Foster's ruthless personal secretary, materialized beside her and shoved a phone into her hands.

"Mrs. Foster, please take this call immediately."

Before she could react, he ripped the microphone out of her grip. He shoved the phone against her ear while a dozen terrifyingly massive bodyguards instantly formed an impenetrable wall, physically throwing the reporters backward.

Trapped under Jordan's lethal glare, Lydia had no choice but to listen.

Charles Foster's deep, faux-gentle voice rolled through the speaker.

"Lydia, dirty laundry stays in the house."

"The Foster Group belongs to you as much as anyone else."

"No matter what petty squabbles you two are having, the company will never be collateral damage to your emotional outbursts."

"Whatever it is you want, I will personally handle it for you," he paused, the implied threat hanging heavy in the air. "I land in thirty minutes. You and Jordan will be waiting for me on the tarmac."

Before she could utter a single syllable, the line went dead.

Listening to the dial tone, Lydia's chest tightened in absolute terror. She watched Jordan effortlessly handle the rabid press, feeding them perfectly crafted corporate PR lies to instantly neutralize the scandal.

Her feet were cemented to the concrete. A bone-deep cold rocketed from the soles of her feet straight to her brain. A hairline fracture cracked open in her chest, threatening to completely shatter her reality at any second.

Desperately fighting the suffocating panic, she terrified of making a single move...

She pulled out her own phone and dialed the courthouse back.

"I apologize, Mrs. Foster."

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