Chapter 224
“I was with Hertha six years ago? Who fed you that line of bull? Even for a reporter, spreading rumors like that can land you in hot water,” Rhett said, turning to face the gaggle of journalists with an incredulous
look.
“It was Miss Hertha herself who posted on social media,” one reporter stammered, fear creeping into his voice under Rhett’s intense gaze, “She even shared a recording, claiming it was you saying you’d take responsibility for her.”
Rhett couldn’t help but let out a derisive chuckle. Hertha was really scraping the bottom of the barrel now.
“York, gather up all the evidence. We’re suing every last one of them for defamation, Hertha, and any journalist spreading these lies. No one gets a free pass,” Rhett barked, turning on his heel and striding towards the elevator with an air of authority that few could match.
Hertha thought that releasing a so–called confession from Rhett would back him into a corner. She figured that even if Rhett refused to get engaged, she could milk the situation for public sympathy and save her family, the Haywoods, from utter ruin.
But she had seriously underestimated Rhett.
She didn’t expect him to go all guns blazing against Holcomb, nor did she foresee him actually taking her to court over her slander.
Within half an hour, Rhett fired back with a post on Twitter, slapping Hertha with a legal notice and tagging her account for good measure.
His post made it clear he was suing her for spreading false rumors that were seriously disrupting his and his beloved’s life. He even suggested Hertha seek medical help, implying her delusions were a sign of
illness.
Rhett’s followers were quick to rally to his defense, “I could say Mr. FitzGerald was with me six years ago,” one fan quipped, “Where’s the proof? A doctored audio clip proves nothing.”
“This recording is clearly edited. ‘I’ll take responsibility‘ could mean anything. Does it have to be romantic? Could it not be brotherly or professional?”
While Rhett’s aggressive stance drew some criticism, it was clear he had achieved his goal, to draw the heat of public opinion onto himself and shield Kristin from the spotlight.
“Rhett.” Holcomb was livid, practically shaking with rage. Was Rhett trying to push him over the edge?
“Holcomb, the Fitzgeralds have gone too far.” Richter barked into the phone, his voice thick with anger, “Is this your idea of a solution? Dragging us into court? You want to drive Hertha to her grave?”
Holcomb’s face was a thundercloud. He realized Rhett was out of control.
“Don’t forget, Holcomb,” Richter reminded him with a dark undertone, “how much effort you put in when Rhett’s mother fell ill.”
The reminder only made Holcomb’s mood darker, “Richter, if we reach the point of no return, nobody
wins.”
“We’re already on the brink of ruin,” Richter snorted, “The Bryce family has called off the engagement. One way or another, the FitzGeralds need to make this right. You have three days to think about it, or we all go
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down together.”
After slamming the phone down, Holcomb, in a fit of anger, hurled a water glass against the wall.
Damn it all.
“Mr. Holcomb, please, take it easy,” his assistant urged, handing him some pills for his nerves.
“Calm down….
In the boardroom, Rhett walked in before Holcomb, his authoritative gaze sweeping over the board members already seated, “Is the company going bankrupt? Everyone’s here so punctually today.”
The directors exchanged uneasy glances, none willing to be the first to speak.
“Rhett, you’ve gone too far this time,” Nicola ventured, breaking the silence.
“Are you on the board?” Rhett asked, lounging in his chair with a casual air that was far removed from his usual presidential poise.
Nicola was taken aback.
“If you’re not a director, why are you here? Waiting to ring in the New Year?” Rhett motioned for security to escort Nicola out.
As Nicola left with a scowl, he mentioned, “Rhett, I basically raised you after your mother passed. I deserve some respect.”
“Respect?” Rhett tapped on the table dismissively, “I treated you like a person. Can’t you at least act the part?”
The rest of the elders inhaled sharply. Was Rhett on a rampage? “Rhett, she’s still your stepmother. Show some respect for your father.”
“Respect for my father?” Rhett leaned back, his tone dripping with irony, “I thought he’d lost all his decency at his age.”
York wiped his brow discreetly. Rhett was on a warpath today…
“Rhett. Don’t overstep,” Vincent slammed the table, rising to confront him, “My mother never wronged you, and now you’re disrespecting our father too?”
“If yelling solved problems, mad dogs would rule the world,” Rhett retorted coolly, sitting up straight.
Vincent was nearly bursting with fury. Rhett was facing his downfall, yet still so arrogant.
“Rhett, I’d like to see you keep laughing later,” Vincent said through clenched teeth.
“Don’t worry, and I’d laugh even at your mother’s funeral,” Rhett replied lazily.
York silently looked heavenward, resigning himself to the chaos that was Rhett’s wrath.
The boardroom was uneasy, and Holcomb had promised to seize Rhett’s shares and oust him from the company. Yet, Rhett didn’t seem the least bit concerned.
Someone tried to mediate, hoping to ease the tension between Holcomb and Rhett.
After all, family disputes like this could cripple the whole operation of the FitzGerald Group.
Rhett’s talents were unmistakable, and deep down everyone knew that pushing him out wouldn’t do the company any long–term favors.
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But Nicola was dangling a very enticing carrot in front of them, and there were always those who preferred the immediate gratification to the distant future.
“Holcomb’s fit as a fiddle, and I hear he’s even considering a second marriage with the Haywoods,” Rhett said with a tilt of his head, glancing over at Nicola, “Is that the buzz?”
The sound of the conference room door being kicked open echoed through the room as Holcomb
stormed in.
Rhett couldn’t help but let out a derisive laugh, finding Holcomb’s behavior utterly ridiculous.
“Rhett. Get out. Get out of this company, as of now, and you are no longer a son of mine.” Holcomb trembled with rage, looking like he might drop dead from anger at any second.
“Holcomb.” Nicola’s theatrics kicked in as she rushed to his side, sobbing, “Holcomb, please, don’t be angry. You know your health can’t take it.”
*You ungrateful wretch.” Holcomb continued to shake with fury.
“Where’s the lawyer? Get them in here. I want to revoke all shares belonging to Rhett, immediately.”
Holcomb slammed his hand on the table and bellowed.
York’s face went pale with anxiety, his eyes darting to Rhett.
But Rhett seemed as if he were merely a spectator at a play.
“Holcomb, calm down, you can’t be hasty about this.”
“Yeah, Holcomb.”
“Don’t be angry with Rhett,” someone from the board tried to play peacemaker.
Others added fuel to the fire, “Holcomb, Rhett is beyond your control.”
Nicola’s eyes were red, her face a mask of sorrow, barely concealing the thrill and excitement that danced in her eyes.
Without his shares in the FitzGerald Group, with him out of the picture, what would Rhett amount to?
“Ungrateful bastard!” Holcomb was still cursing.
“Mr. Holcomb. The CEO of Lewis Enterprises, Hanson, has just arrived personally. He says they are interested in an alliance with the Fitzgerald family through marriage and is inquiring about your availability.”
In an instant, Holcomb’s fury seemed to dissolve into silence.
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