The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 174

Burning Rage

Marcus continued his report in a voice kept deliberately steady.

“Mrs. Sterling hired a journalist from one of the tabloid media outlets,” he explained carefully. “Based on our investigation, this journalist is known to work on anything as long as he’s paid. Regardless of ethics. His specialty is sensational news with anonymous sources.”

Daniel’s jaw hardened.

The muscle in his face moved slightly–the only sign of the anger he was pressing beneath the surface.

But he was silent.

A dangerous silence.

The kind of silence Marcus had learned to fear more than any explosive rage.

“I’ve already begun suppressing the coverage, Sir,” Marcus continued quickly. “We’ve already contacted several platforms to remove posts. Threatening legal action against major gossip sites. The results are already showing- most articles have been taken down, though some people are still leaving negative comments about Mrs. Alina.”

He paused briefly.

“What should we do next, Sir?”

Daniel didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes were still fixed on the tablet screen in his hands–photos of Alina that had spread. The pale face. The empty eyes. The thin body. Every most fragile moment of his wife, made into public spectacle by irresponsible hands.

Something dark and cold moved in his chest.

“Clean it all,” he said with absolute authority. “I want every article gone. Every photo removed. Every comment deleted. And I want you to make sure that no one–and I mean no one–dares to mention Alina’s name again in connection with this.”

Marcus nodded quickly. “Understood, Sir.”

“And that journalist.”

Marcus raised his head.

“Make him disappear.”

Silence fell in that room like a stone.

Marcus felt his chest immediately grow heavy.

“Si–Sir?” he asked carefully, hoping he had heard wrong. “You mean… disappear?”

Daniel sneered.

A smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all.

“Remove that person from the face of the earth,” Daniel said with terrifying clarity. “I don’t forgive anyone who has disturbed Alina. And I want the person behind all of this to know–very clearly–what the consequences are of

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messing with Daniel Blackwood’s wife.”

Marcus swallowed with great difficulty.

His entire body felt cold.

He had worked for Daniel Blackwood for years. Had witnessed many things that made his hair stand on end. Had executed orders that kept him awake at night.

But this was different.

“Yes, Sir,” he finally said in a voice barely audible. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Daniel didn’t respond again.

That was enough.

Marcus turned and left the room with quick steps–as if the air inside was too heavy to breathe any longer.

The door closed.

Daniel stood alone.

He placed the tablet on the table with a very controlled movement, then clenched his fists at his sides.

Clarissa.

That name echoed in his head with burning rage.

He stared straight ahead–not seeing anything, yet seeing everything very clearly in his mind.

Clarissa who secretly took photos of Alina.

Clarissa who hired a cheap journalist to spread all of it.

Clarissa who used Alina’s most fragile moments as a weapon.

Daniel’s hands clenched harder.

“This is the last time you disturb Alina,” Daniel whispered in a voice that was very quiet but full of something far more terrifying than any scream. “If this happens again, I swear you will never see Junior again. I will make you disappear. Just as I’m making that journalist disappear. I don’t care that you’re the mother of my child.”

Daniel’s words fell into the empty room, without witnesses.

But the weight felt real.

Outside the room, in the quiet corridor, Marcus stood for a moment with his back against the wall–trying to stabilize his erratic breathing.

His hands trembled as he opened his phone.

There was a call he had to make. To immediately carry out Daniel’s order.

Marcus began typing a number. Pressed the call button with still trembling hands.

The waiting tone rang twice.

Then a heavy voice answered on the other end. No greeting. No pleasantries.

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“Yes?”

“There’s a job,” Marcus said in a very low voice. Almost soundless. “Someone who needs to… be made to disappear. Quietly. Without a trace.”

A brief silence on the other end.

“Name?”

Marcus closed his eyes for a moment.

“Steven Walsh. Journalist.”

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At Blackwood mansion, Clarissa sat on the sofa with crossed legs and a glass of wine in hand. Her phone screen reflected light onto her face that looked pleased–having successfully destroyed the person she had been targeting.

“Good! This is exactly what I want,” Clarissa whispered softly.

Article after article about Alina was still circulating on various platforms.

Photos. Comments.

All exactly as she wanted.

Clarissa took a satisfied sip of wine.

This was what she wanted. Public opinion moving like a current that would sweep Alina away.

Clarissa’s phone vibrated.

A notification from Steven Walsh.

“Job done, Mrs. Sterling. Articles have spread to all target platforms. The engagement is incredible. People are very enthusiastic about this story.”

Clarissa smiled.

She typed a reply with fingers that were light and casual–as if replying to an old friend’s message, not someone she had just ordered to destroy the reputation of a woman lying dying in a hospital.

“Very satisfying work, Steven. As always. There’s a bonus for you. Check your account.”

A reply came almost instantly.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Sterling! Always a pleasure working with you. Anytime you need help again, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Clarissa tapped her finger slowly on the side of her phone.

Steven Walsh.

That name had been in her contacts for years–even long before she knew Daniel.

Back then, when Clarissa decided to leave Daniel to pursue her modeling career, she needed the right narrative. Divorce could be a disaster for the public image of a young model just on the rise.

Steven handled everything.

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Every article that came out at that time praised both their decisions–Daniel and Clarissa mutually supportive, parting maturely for each other’s careers. No drama. No scandal. The public was actually captivated—many hoping that ideal couple would one day reunite.

Steven always knew how to shape a story.

Clarissa replied to his message with one final sentence.

“Of course. You’re always reliable.”

She set down her phone and returned to staring at the screen with articles about Alina.

That photo–Alina with empty eyes and a face that looked like someone with no reason to live–made the corner of Clarissa’s lips slowly lift.

That smile slowly turned dark. Cold. Full of something far more sinister than just a small victory.

“This is what you get for wanting to compete with me, Alina,” Clarissa whispered to the screen showing Alina’s face.

Clarissa’s eyes narrowed.

“This is just the beginning. Next, wait for your true destruction, Alina Hayes.”

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