CHAPTER 162: FAKE LOVE

As much as what the people saw and heard shocked the entire hall in disgust and disbelief, the video froze Varrel right where he sat.

His fists clenched on the table, shaking with rage, like he couldn’t fucking believe what he’d just witnessed. He remembered too vividly about last night.

It was still clear to him. He had Lethia under his sheet. No fucking doubt about it. The one he thrust his soul into was Lethia. Her soft skin, her scent, even the little bump on her belly. That was her.

So why, why the hell was the woman in the video not Lethia... but the oracle?

He blinked hard, hoping his eyes were lying. Hoping this was some sick dream. But no, what played on the screen was undeniable. The mosaic blur only covered their bodies, and anyone could see it. His face. The oracle’s face. It was she in that damn video.

He could feel the razor gaze of judgment cutting through him from every direction inside the hall, even if he didn’t meet a single one of those eyes.

His team was still scrambling in chaos, clearly unable to stop the broadcast. The damage caused by that video was already inevitable.

While Varrel was still trying to process the twisted mismatch between his memory and this brutal reality, the screen buzzed into static.

Then, Lethia’s face appeared, smiling.

Once again, the room dropped into silence like a punch to the gut.

"Hi, I’m Lethia Ashcroft."

Her soft smile made Zeran stiffen.

"I know my scandals are like fire doused in gasoline. They always explode and shoot flames that lick anything too close and burn them alive."

She giggled softly.

"Yeah, at least that was the best comment on the internet I really liked before I made this video. User supportstrongmommy, I’m giving you credit."

She smiled bitterly.

"I don’t know about burning someone alive in the literal sense, but if what you meant was when someone messed with my life, my family, the people I love, and I would chase them all the way to hell? Yeah. I’d fucking do it."

Her smile slowly faded.

"And Varrel Quinnel messed with all of that."

"As you can see in the video, Varrel Quinnel is not in his right mind. He’s sick. He needs help. I know, exposing someone who isn’t mentally stable like this is cruel. I shouldn’t be doing this. But I had no choice. I’m fine being seen as the villain, as long as no more people get fooled by the mask Varrel wears."

"And this is the only way... to save more lives."

Lethia showed pictures of Varrel with several different women, all of them with the same maroon-colored hair. Then the screen returned to her face, calm but filled with concern.

"No more victims like them... because of Varrel’s sickening obsession. And as you all heard earlier in his own confession, he wanted to rule the government."

"Oh dear Varrel, your place is not in the leadership seat of Lykon Haven. You belong strapped down in an asylum."

"He told me he would start a war between werewolves and lycans. Can you believe that shit? What sane werewolf would commit such a treacherous act?"

"We all know from history just how horrifying the consequences of a war between werewolves and lycans are."

"And for whoever’s still choosing to side with Varrel right now... think again."

Lethia paused for a moment and let out a slow, deliberate smirk.

"Will you let a madman become your leader? Though I’m not even sure if our current society’s still sane enough to care... at least, I’d rather live in fake peace than bleed through a greedy war."

Zeran’s jaw clenched the second he heard the words fake peace from her lips. The chuckle that followed hit his ears like a taunt.

He was sure this video had been taken under pressure, but still, there was not a single trace of fear in her voice.

Lethia’s gaze on that massive screen felt like it pierced through anyone watching. No, that piercing glare felt aimed right at him.

"Fake peace... fake life... fake people... fake love... All of that is still better than watching war erupt and corpses pile up. Because we can still hope the fake might turn into reality. But we can’t hope the dead to come back alive."

Zeran stared straight into Lethia’s eyes on the screen, searching desperately for some hidden meaning behind her words. But all he saw was a soft smile... and then the screen went black.

He was relieved she looked fine, unharmed. But her words didn’t make him feel at ease.

The entire hall erupted into chaos once again. The judge council ordered Varrel to be taken into custody by the council army for further interrogation.

Varrel screamed, claiming he was framed, that the video was fake. But it didn’t matter. He was seized and dragged out of the hall.

His team was taken right after, escorted away for further investigation.

The party that had supported Varrel didn’t even glance his way as they exited the hall, their faces buried in shame.

Zeran watched the chaos from his seat, keeping a steady calm on his expression. He smirked. Looked like Lethia had saved herself.

He took out his phone from his pocket and checked the Ashcroft stock; it was slowly climbing back up.

He’d planned to counter Varrel’s defense by handing over his trump card to the judge panel to shut Varrel down for good.

But doing that would’ve only hurt Lethia more and added to her trauma. So part of him was honestly glad. Varrel’s downfall came from Lethia’s own hand.

"Sir, we found her." Derreck approached, breathless. "More precisely, she showed up herself. She’s here, sir."

Derreck sounded like he was rambling, too damn excited to speak clearly.

"Where is she?" Zeran asked calmly, though his heart was pounding faster.

He followed Derreck out of the hall. "Does Renar know yet?"

Derreck paused a second. "When I called him, he sounded like he already knew Lethia was in Ashenhold. And right now, he’s taking Lana Ashcroft to the hospital."

Zeran’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean by He knew?"

"Seems like Miss Lethia contacted Renar first before the conference in the hall even started, sir."

They both stopped in front of a room that made Zeran narrow his eyes, because it was Callista’s.

"She’s in there, sir," Derreck gestured.

Without a second thought, Zeran reached for the knob.

When the door swung open, he found Lethia and Callista seated across from one another.

Lethia calmly sipped her tea, then turned and smiled softly at him.

"Oh, here he is. My blind love."

She placed the teacup back on the table. Her bright smile melted into a bitter one.

"Or... can I say, my fake love?"