The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 236

"Sons of bitches."

He cursed under his breath. Putting aside the thought of going upstairs to find Clara for a moment, he immediately dialed the company's PR department.

"Get those trending topics taken down. Contact the platform administrators. Send legal notices to every single gossip blog that posted the kid's photo. If anyone dares to dig into the child's private information, we'll sue them into bankruptcy."

"Also, issue a statement immediately. Ms. Unknown has never claimed to be single, and her private life is not for public consumption. Make the tone firm. None of that passive-aggressive, fake-apologetic nonsense. We don't need to apologize!"

The PR department knew this order came from someone with a direct line to President Turner, so they didn't dare waste a second. They scrambled to execute the commands.

In less than an hour, the hashtags were completely wiped.

Aside from die-hard fans still discussing in private forums about how "the little young master is so handsome" or lamenting that "Miss Unknown was taken off the market too soon," the screenshot had vanished from the internet.

Clara finished spending time with Felix and handed him over to the guilt-ridden nanny before going to find Simon.

Simon flashed her an "OK" sign.

"It's handled. When that legal department makes a move, they really go for the scorched-earth policy."

Clara sighed. "Thanks for the hard work."

"Don't mention it. Felix is practically my son, too." Simon sat up straight and looked at her seriously. "But Clara, even though we suppressed it this time, you need to be careful. The internet is forever, and with a face like Felix's..."

Clara nodded. "I know."

-

Heron Bay International Airport.

A flight from Brighton City had just touched down, and a group of men pushed their luggage toward the exit.

At the arrivals gate, two plainclothes officers stepped forward to meet them.

The middle-aged man leading them was Detective Mitchell from the Heron Bay Police Narcotics Division.

He recognized Rhys immediately.

Four years had passed. Time hadn't aged him so much as it had sharpened him; his features were more defined, colder, and harder than before.

The only major change was a faint white scar cutting through his left eyebrow.

The Bay Bridge was brightly lit, the neon lights reflecting beautifully off the distant sea surface.

The wind in Heron Bay was humid and warm, starkly different from the dry, biting wind of Brighton City.

This kind of damp heat made old wounds itch. It also had a way of cracking open memories that had long since scabbed over.

He suddenly thought of that streamer.

She was supposedly in Heron Bay.

Since waking up from his severe injuries years ago, he hadn't logged back into that livestream room. He didn't even know if she was still broadcasting.

Rhys raised his hand and pressed against the scar on his brow.

Noticing his darkened expression, Mitchell asked, "Everything okay?"

Rhys snapped back to reality and lowered his hand.

"Old injury. Just a little itchy."