Roman looked more miserable than ever, both arms were injured and hanging at his sides.
He tried to flag down a cab to get to the hospital, but out of nowhere, a crowd surrounded him. Cameras flashed in his face.
"Sir, were you just at Western Hill Villa? What happened to you? Was there a fight?"
"What’s your connection to the Wilson family?"
"Do you have a conflict with the lady of the house, Chantelle Bently? Would you mind telling us?"
The reporters outside Western Hill Villa swarmed Roman like he was their biggest scoop. They fired off questions nonstop.
Roman didn’t care about any of them. All he wanted was to get to the hospital. But more reporters showed up, blocking his path.
They weren’t just random bloggers. These were big-name media outlets.
"Leave me alone. I need to get to the hospital."
"Can you tell us what happened? Did the Wilson family hurt you?" They followed behind him and has no plan to back off.
Roman soon realized they wouldn’t stop, no matter how injured he looked.
So, he changed his approach.
"You want to know who I am? Fine. I’m Roman Bently, president of Bently Corporation and Chantelle Bently’s biological father."
"Ah, so you came to see your daughter, Mr. Bently?"
"Do you know what happened to Mrs. Wilson a few years ago? Is it true she came back from the dead?"
The reporters lit up like they had just found gold.
They’d been waiting around for a chance, but the villa and Daniel’s cars were always tightly guarded. Seeing Roman was a stroke of luck.
"You want an interview? Fine. But as you can see, I’m injured. If one of you takes me to the hospital, I’ll think about it," he said, seizing the moment.
Just as he hoped, a car pulled up right away, ready to take him.
Roman casually told the reporters from Leon Network, who brought him to the hospital, to handle everything—registration, the bill, and even getting him a room.
He even managed to get a full meal out of them.
Lying comfortably in the ward, surrounded by food and drinks, he observed as they set up the cameras. Once everything was ready, he put on a show.
He looked weak and frail, then turned to the camera and began his act.
"I won’t lie to you. My daughter, Chantelle—yes, the lady of the Wilson family—is back. She’s doing fine. Daniel loves her deeply. But me... her father... Ah..."
He let out a heavy sigh and wiped away the imaginary tears.
"Are you saying Mrs. Wilson treated you badly, Mr. Bently? Did she allow the assault to happen?"
The reporters from Leon Network could sense drama the moment they saw Roman’s sad expression.
"It wasn’t her fault. I happened to be in the wrong place," Roman said, hanging his head while sighing heavily.
His pitiful look made it seem like he was trying to protect Chantelle.
"She sent someone to hurt you? That’s terrible. Who throws their own injured father out like that?"
Shawn Smith, a young and impulsive reporter who just joined the industry couldn’t stop himself from criticizing Chantelle.
Several other reporters agreed along with Shawn’s statement.
Since this was a live broadcast, every voice was picked up clearly.
Viewers poured into Leon Network’s stream, boosting its traffic instantly.
This was exactly what Roman wanted. He had planned it all. He needed the reporters to react emotionally.
When he looked up again, his eyes were red, and his expression looked pitiful.
"She can disown me if she wants... but I could never disown her. She’ll always be my precious daughter."
Roman appeared before the public as a hurt and heartbroken father.
"Chantelle, The Undutiful Daughter" quickly trended on Twitter.
The topic kept gaining attention.
News about Daniel’s public show of love for Chantelle had already been big. Roman’s story added more fuel to it.
Soon, a netizen wrote a short post called "Uncovering Mrs. Wilson’s Sordid Story."
The post gave a detailed "account" of Chantelle’s bad behavior as a child, saying it explains she would grow up to disrespect her parents.
It was written so convincingly and it felt like the writer had witnessed everything firsthand.
Chantelle’s biggest fans quickly turned against her. They flooded the social media with hateful comments.
Many were jealous that she was the only woman Daniel Wilson ever publicly adored. They didn’t hold back their words. Some even started a campaign—"Divorce her, Mr. Wilson!"
Chantelle, meanwhile, was laughing as she scrolled through her phone.
Daniel observed nearby as Philip finished redressing her wound, clearly bothered by the look on her face.
Every time she laughed while using her phone, he couldn’t help but think some other man was making her smile.
Is something wrong with me? Maybe I need Philip to check my head.
"What are you looking at, Chantelle? You seem entertained. Show me." Philip casually sat beside her.
Daniel’s sharp features turned cold.
He wanted to throw Philip out but held back. He didn’t want Chantelle to be upset with him.
The two of them kept sneaking glances at him, quietly laughing.
Annoyed, he pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly across the screen.
Soon, Chantelle’s homepage popped up.
Right away, a few bold headlines caught his eye.
"Divorce her, Mr. Wilson!"
"This is a bad match, Mr. Wilson!"
"Chantelle, the filthy wench!"
The air around Daniel turned cold after he saw those headlines.
"Everyone online is tearing you apart, and you’re still laughing?"
"I’m not the only one they’re after. Look at the stuff they’re saying about you." Chantelle didn’t seem bothered at all. She even liked a few of the tweets. "Here, check this one out. Someone said they’d pay to fix your eyesight!"
Even Philip found it funny.
But that didn’t last long. A chill ran down his spine when he sneaked glances at Daniel and saw his gloomy face.
"Ah, I just remembered I’ve got something to do. I won’t be staying for dinner!" Philip shot up and quickly made his exit.
Am I imagining things, or is Daniel giving me a weird look?
He must be jealous of how close I am with Chantie.
"Stay for dinner. I want you to meet Russell," Chantelle said with a cheerful smile, stopping Philip just as he was about to leave.
He didn’t expect that.
"Russell?" he asked, surprised.