CHAPTER 137: AFTER THE STORM

Sean and I moved aside as Anna emerged, supported by Rachel with Clayton following close behind. Even in her loose coat, her pregnant belly was unmistakable. Her face was pale from exhaustion, but her expression remained resolute.

Glasses Guy’s jaw dropped. "That’s impossible. I was told she left hours ago..."

"Who told you our CEO had left?" Sean’s voice was ice-cold. "Ms. Shaw has been here since we first received news of the accident. She hasn’t even had dinner except for sharing food with the worker’s family. Anyone here can verify that."

I noticed Glasses Guy trying to slip away through the crowd. I caught Sean’s eye and nodded slightly toward the retreating figure. Sean and Rachel immediately moved to follow him.

Anna’s POV

Daniel handed me the microphone with a subtle nod of encouragement.

Camera lenses zoomed in on my face, their predatory focus making my skin crawl. I straightened my posture, one hand instinctively shielding my belly as I faced the media vultures circling for a story. All those hungry eyes, waiting for me to break.

*You’ve faced worse, Anna. This is nothing.*

"Through the livestream, I’ve already been made aware of what happened here tonight," I began, my voice steadier than I’d anticipated. "Im here to tell you that Shaw Corp takes full responsibility for every project and every person involved. Paradise Valley Estates represents our commitment to creating an exceptional living community. When safety incidents occur, we don’t hide—we act."

I paused, letting my gaze sweep across the gathered crowd. The twins shifted inside me, as if lending their strength.

"The injured worker is currently in surgery. I personally guarantee that Shaw Corp will spare no expense to ensure he receives the best medical care possible." My voice hardened as I continued. "However, I must strongly urge everyone not to believe the deliberately harmful narratives being spread online. Shaw Corp will gather evidence against media outlets and individuals maliciously spreading rumors, and we will pursue legal action."

I searched for a particular camera, staring directly into its lens, imagining my words piercing through the screen to whoever orchestrated this circus.

"Shaw Corp has already contacted law enforcement, as we suspect this incident may be deliberate sabotage and an attempt to smear Paradise Valley Estates. I trust the legal system will reveal the truth."

As I spoke, I watched the comment sections on nearby livestreams begin to shift. The paid trolls were scattering like roaches when the lights come on, their toxic comments overwhelmed by viewers expressing support.

Behind the camera’s view, my mind raced. This wasn’t just about Paradise Valley Estates-the real target was Skylake District. And I’d bet my entire fortune that George Simpson was pulling the strings. With the Murphy family backing me, who else would dare make such a desperate move?

My fingers tightened around the microphone. *I will not let them win. Not now, not ever.*

When the commenter tide fully turned, I allowed myself a small breath of relief. "Thank you for your concern.

It’s getting late, so please disperse and take care." I handed the microphone back to Daniel, maintaining my composure until the cameras finally lowered.

Catherine appeared at my side, slipping a supportive arm around my waist. "Those vultures," she whispered, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Nothing but trashy tabloids doing dirty work for money."

"Can we trace them?" I asked, still riding the surge of adrenaline. "I want names."

"Difficult," Catherine sighed. "Some are just hired guns, and others aren’t even real journalists."

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The screen displayed a name that made me pause: Phillip Murphy. Catherine’s father rarely contacted me directly.

Anna’s POV

Catherine peered over my shoulder, her eyebrows arching in surprise.

"Dad? What’s he calling you for?"

I answered, putting the call on speaker. To my surprise, it wasn’t Phillip but William Murphy’s warm, gravelly voice that came through.

"Annie, is there anything your Grandpa William or your Uncle Phillip can help with? You just say the word.

Don’t worry, don’t be afraid. William’s here to make everything right for you."

The familiar concern in his voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension from my shoulders. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t help but gently scold him.

"William, why aren’t you resting yet?

It’s so late."

Catherine leaned closer to the phone.

"Grandpa, I’m here too. Anyone who dares to bully Shaw Corp or hurt Anna will have to answer to me."

William grumbled good-naturedly, "You! It would be impressive if you weren’t causing Anna more problems."

I quickly defended her, "Catherine helped me tremendously today. She personally went to get the specialist." The gratitude in my voice was genuine —without her quick thinking, we might have lost Lucius.

"Well, in that case, Catherine deserves recognition," William conceded. "Good job, growing up and becoming more responsible."

Catherine rolled her eyes so dramatically I couldn’t help but laugh.

Even in crisis, these small family interactions provided brief moments of lightness.

"William, I don’t need to trouble you and Phillip for now," I assured him.

"If things get beyond my control, I’ll definitely ask for your help."

ーーー

Lucius’s surgery lasted ten excruciating hours. When the doctor finally emerged, announcing success, the relief that flooded through me was almost dizzying. But watching Lucian drop to his knees before the doctor made my heart clench again.

"Don’t thank me," the doctor said, quickly pulling him up. "Thank Dr. Mitchell. Without him here today, your brother would have been in real danger."

When Lucian moved to kneel before me too, Daniel thankfully intercepted him. I stepped aside instinctively, uncomfortable with such a display.

"You don’t need to thank me. This is what we should do," I said, hoping he understood my sincerity. "Rest assured, we will investigate today’s incident thoroughly-not only to give your brother closure but to prevent similar accidents from happening again."

Lucian looked at me, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "Ms. Shaw, I respect you."

His simple statement carried more genuine respect than a thousand flowery words, filling me with a renewed sense of responsibility.

- - -

Dr. Mitchell emerged from changing out of his surgical scrubs, his confident smile reassuring. "The young man is tough and resilient. With proper care, there shouldn’t be major issues. Family members don’t need to stay here around the clock-go get some rest."

I arranged for Inigo to book rooms at a nearby hotel for Lucian and his coworkers, ensuring they could take turns watching over Lucius during the critical forty-eight-hour window ahead.

Before we left, Daniel cautioned Lucian seriously, "You’ve seen how those people spread rumors online claiming Lucius had died. If they learn the surgery was successful, they might sneak into the hospital to cause harm just to validate their lies."

"What if someone disguises themselves as a doctor to inject poison into Lucius?" one worker blurted out anxiously. "That’s terrifying! We won’t tell anyone, not a soul."

Though somewhat dramatic, their understanding of the situation’s gravity gave me some peace of mind.

---

Sean called as we were leaving, informing me they’d located the man with glasses and handed him to the police. A small victory, but welcome news nonetheless.

Daniel insisted I go home to rest. I was beyond exhausted, but before leaving, I instructed the PR department to monitor online sentiment closely.

At Shaw Estate, I collapsed into bed after a quick shower. Logic dictated that such bone-deep fatigue should guarantee dreamless sleep, but instead, my night was filled with fragmented crises that jolted me awake repeatedly.

I opened my eyes to dawn’s pale light feeling like I hadn’t slept at all.

---

Betty’s fetal heart monitoring check brought welcome reassurance-the twins were doing fine despite my stressful night. After forcing down breakfast under her watchful eye, I retreated to my study to assess the overnight developments.

My appearance on the livestream had worked remarkably well, shifting public opinion dramatically in our favor. Many internet users were now searching for my social media accounts, expressing support for both me and Shaw Corp. The PR department’s overnight efforts had stabilized the situation considerably.

The opposition hadn’t made any new moves yet. I closed my laptop with cautious relief, preparing to head to the office to handle the remaining fallout.

My phone rang, the screen displaying an overseas number that made my heart skip. I stared at it, momentarily frozen, before answering.

"Are you alright?" Marcus Murphy’s familiar, steady voice came through immediately.

I thought I was immune to his effect on me by now, but my accelerating pulse proved otherwise.

"I’m fine," I replied, striving for a casual tone. "Did Uncle Marcus see the news online?"

"I did. You’ve worked hard."

His simple acknowledgment created unexpected ripples in my composure.

"Working hard for my own project isn’t difficult at all. Thank you for your concern, Uncle Marcus. I’m fine, I’ll handle everything."

His voice carried absolute trust: "I know you can."

Marcus’s POV

I watched her face for the fifth time today, my fingers hovering over the touchscreen. Anna stood at the hospital entrance, exhaustion etched into her features despite her composed demeanor. One hand rested protectively over her swollen belly-our twins—while she faced a firing squad of reporters with unflinching determination.

My heart constricted painfully as I paused the video, zooming in on her face. Dark shadows beneath her eyes betrayed her fatigue, yet her voice remained steady, authoritative. Even five months pregnant with twins, she commanded the room with effortless poise, single-handedly managing a crisis that could have destroyed Paradise Valley Estates.

The leather of my executive chair creaked as I leaned back, a dull ache spreading through my chest. She should be resting, protected, focusing solely on our children’s wellbeing.

Instead she was fighting battles "Sir, Doyle has resurfaced." Peter’s voice cut through my thoughts. He stood at the threshold of my private office, his expression grave. "Our intelligence confirms he’s rebuilding his network. You absolutely cannot return to Skyview City now. It’s too dangerous."