REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess (Nyxara) novel Chapter 117

I placed my phone face down on the table, the dark screen reflecting the faint amber glow of the restaurant's overhead lighting.

Dario, who had been watching me closely while the rest of the family continued their quiet discussions, shifted slightly in his seat. His arm rested along the back of my chair, his thumb lightly brushing against my bare skin.

"What was that about?" Dario asked, his tone low and even, devoid of any panic.

Around the table, the conversation naturally lulled. Grandfather set his wine glass down, his sharp, calculating eyes fixing on me, while Elena and Bianca paused mid-sentence, looking over with identical expressions of cool interest.

I looked up, meeting Dario's dark gaze, and gave a small, dismissive shrug. "Just Leo. Nysa and Caroline found a microphone." I said casually.

Grandfather leaned back against his chair, steepling his fingers together. He didn't look worried; if anything, he looked mildly amused, like an adult watching a couple of stray dogs bark at a freight train. "And what piece of fiction are they selling to the public this time?" he asked.

"The usual," I replied, tracing the rim of my water glass with my index finger. "They went on live television. According to Leo, they're crying to the cameras, claiming Carlton threw them out onto the streets for absolutely no reason. Nysa is screaming that Carlton is playing favorites and that I manipulated him with a pack of lies to turn the family against them. Caroline spent half her interview blubbering about their decades of marriage, begging Carlton to take her back, and whining about how he allowed me to humiliate them. They even threw in a nice little bonus claim that I showed up at the Vexari estate and physically assaulted both of them." I said with a sigh.

A dry, harsh snort broke the silence. Vincenzo shook his head, a dark grin spreading across his face. "Physical assault? From you? They really are completely delusional. If you actually laid hands on them, they wouldn't be sitting up talking to a news anchor, they'd be liquid on the floor." he said.

"Well," Bianca added with a light chuckle, swirling the red wine in her glass. "It's a bold strategy. Let's see how long it holds up once people remember who Carlton Vexari actually is. Nobody in high-stakes circles touches a Vexari or a Valteri without getting burned to ash." She said.

Elena nodded, leaning forward. "Do you need your people to scrub the feeds, or are you letting them dig their own graves for a bit?" she asked.

I looked around the table, taking in the calm, unshakeable confidence of the people surrounding me. In my past life, a stunt like this would have ruined me. It would have isolated me, stripped away what little dignity I had left, and left me completely defenseless against their coordinated smear campaigns. Back then, public opinion was a weapon they wielded with absolute precision, turning every eye against me while I stood alone in the cold.

Now? Now I was sitting at the top floor of an exclusive restaurant, surrounded by a family of apex predators who viewed Nysa and Caroline's pathetic television broadcast as little more than background noise during dessert.

"I told Leo to start scrubbing the footage, and Jax is keeping an eye on them," I said, a faint, cool smile touching my lips. "Honestly, I don't even think we need to lift a finger. Carlton is watching this right now, or his security team has already briefed him. He hates public spectacle more than anything. Dragging his name through the mud on live television because they got evicted for their own toxic behavior? Carlton is going to drop the hammer by morning." I said.

Grandfather nodded approvingly, a slow, satisfied expression crossing his weathered face. "Spot on. Let them thrash. The more desperate they look on screen, the more final their exile becomes. When a man like Carlton Vexari cuts a tumor out of his life, he doesn't appreciate it trying to claw its way back in through a tabloid lens." He raised his glass slightly toward me. "Leave them to burn themselves out. What you've done so far is more than enough."

"Agreed," Dario said softly, his hand sliding from the back of my chair to rest gently on the bare skin of my back, his thumb tracing warm circles against my spine. "Let's not let two pathetic scavengers ruin a good dinner."

"To family," Vincenzo said, raising his glass, and the rest of us followed suit, the crystal clinking softly in the quiet air of the private room.

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