Chapter 173

No.1

The elevator doors slid open on the eighth floor with a soft, melodic chime. The heavy scent of industrial bleach and expensive floral arrangements hit Elisa's nose instantly.

This was the VIP wing. It was supposed to be a fortress of privacy, guarded by strict security protocols and locked doors.

Instead,the wide corridor was packed.

At least twenty elite journalists and camera crews were crammed into the hallway, their lenses pointed directly at the open double doors of the master suite at the far end.

Elisa's jaw tightened. The realization hit her like a physical blow. This wasn't a hospital ward; it was a soundstage. Allena had intentionally bypassed security to let the media in. She was broadcasting her victimhood live.

Through the open doors, Elisa could see the massive

hospital bed. Allena lay propped up against a mountain of white pillows. A thick, dramatic bandage was wrapped around her forehead. An IV line snaked into the back of her pale hand. Her eyes were half-closed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She looked like a fragile, dying swan.

No.2

Devon Browning stood at the foot of the bed. He wore a sharp navy suit, looking grave and deeply offended. He was speaking directly into a cluster of microphones held by the reporters in the doorway.

"Dr. Mills is a visionary," Devon said, his voice thick with rehearsed sorrow. "She has dedicated her life to healing. To see her violently attacked by a woman consumed by petty jealousy and professional inadequacy is sickening."

Devon held up a printed sheet of paper, waving it at the cameras.

"We have internal logs," Devon lied smoothly, his eyes cold and hard. "They prove that Elisa Wilder deliberately leaked the manipulated video footage to extort the Chambers family. And when that failed,she tried to kill Dr. MAills in that stairwell. She even tried to physically stop Mrs. Hastings from calling for

help."

The sheer magnitude of the lie made Elisa's stomach churn. It was a complete, masterful inversion of reality.

Elisa stepped out of the elevator. Jewel was right beside her, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles were white.

No.3

The sharp click of Elisa's heels on the linoleum floor cut through Devon's speech.

A reporter near the back of the pack turned around.His eyes widened. He tapped the shoulder of the cameraman next to him. Like dominoes falling, the entire media pack turned.

Devon saw her. A vicious, triumphant sneer flashed across his face before he quickly replaced it with a mask of outrage.

"Security!" Devon shouted, pointing directly at Elisa."How did this woman get up here? The attacker is in the hallway!"

The journalists didn't back away. They surged forward, smelling blood. They abandoned the

doorway and swarmed Elisa, pinning her and Jewel against the cold, tiled wall of the corridor.

"Elisa! Do you have any remorse for what you did?" a male reporter yelled, shoving a digital recorder so close it bumped against Elisa's chin.

No.4

"Are you trying to finish the job?" a woman screamed from the back.

Elisa felt the cold wall pressing against her back brace. The physical pressure on her injured spine was excruciating, a hot needle driving directly into her nerves. She took a shallow breath, forcing her voice to remain absolutely steady and loud enough to cut through the noise.

"Meredith Hastings pushed Allena Mills," Elisa stated,her words sharp and precise. "There is no extortion.The Vanguard FDA delay is a smokescreen to hide their inability to produce the core code."

Before the reporters could even process her words,Devon's loud, mocking laughter echoed down the hall.

"Listen to her!" Devon yelled, stepping out of the hospital room to address the cameras. "She's

completely unhinged! Now she's trying to frame a respected elder of the Chambers family! This is the behavior of a psychopath!"

The reporters ignored Elisa's statement. It didn't fit the narrative. The story of a jealous, violent ex-wife attacking a brilliant, beautiful doctor was too lucrative to abandon for the complicated truth.

No.5

The questions grew louder, more aggressive. A heavy camera lens bumped hard against Elisa's shoulder. Jewel shoved the cameraman back,screaming at them to back off, but her voice was drowned out by the mob.

Inside the hospital room, Allena turned her head slightly on the pillow.

Through the gap in the crowd, Allena's eyes met Elisa's.

For one split second, the fragile, dying swan vanished. Allena's lips curled into a tiny, wicked smile of absolute victory. She had Elisa exactly where she wanted her-trapped, hated, and completely powerless against the weight of public opinion.

Then, Allena executed her final move.

She let out a sudden, high-pitched gasp. She threw her hand over her chest and began to hyperventilate violently, her body thrashing against the crisp white sheets.

"Gef her away!" Allena shrieked, her voice echoing in the hallway. "Please! She's going to hurt me!"

No.6

The heart mnonitor next to the bed, reacting to her sudden, erratic movements and elevated heart rate,began to blare a rapid, piercing alarm. Beep-beep-beep-beep!

The sound of the alarm sent the corridor into absolute chaos.

Two nurses sprinted out of a nearby station, shoving their way through the reporters. "We need a doctor in here, stat! Security, clear the hallway now!" they screamed.

Two massive hospital security guards finally arrived from the stairwell. They didn't gently ask Elisa to leave. They grabbed her upper arms with brutal force.

"You need to leave, ma'am. Now," the larger guard barked.

He shoved Elisa forward. The sudden, violent jerk twisted her torso. The carbon-fiber brace dug viciously into her hip bone. A white-hot flash of pain blinded her for a second. The corridor dissolved into a meaningless blur of light, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. She stumbled, her knees buckling slightly, but Jewel caught her arm, keeping her upright.

Elisa didn't fight the guards. She let them push her down the hallway.

No.7

She looked back over her shoulder. The reporters were filming her forced exit, capturing every second of her humiliation. Devon was standing in the doorway, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

Elisa was drowning in a sea of lies, condemned by a jury of cameras. The physical pain in her back was nothing compared to the suffocating, crushing weight of the injustice.

She had brought the truth to a place that only traded in fiction. And she had lost.③