uth in a perfect pantomime of shock. Behind her, a wall of reporters surged forward, camera flashes erup

deviated from her carefully crafted script. She had expected to find Khloe in a comp

rding, slumped on a sofa, bleeding from

ide him, her white dress prist

hey kept shooting, documenting every confusing, electrifying detail. This wasn't

nd of collective

f the crystal decanter from the floor. Without a moment's hesitatio

blood that dripped onto the pure white silk o

ure shattered, replaced by a mask of terror. Her body bega

a silent, horrific accusation

He tried t

, snatching her phone from beside her clutch. She'd retrieved it while Brenton was

rgency?" a calm voice

cry, pitched perfectly for the report

iancé... he tried to assault me! He drugged my drink!

to a struggle, to her own violence, framing it as desperate se

hut on her instead. This was a disaster, a public relations apocalypse. Her "s

ound the doorframe down the hall. He saw the blood, the

simple affair, shifted their focus. The narrative had changed.

on. "She's lying! She's mentally unst

ically, pointing her blood

h betrayal. "You helped him! You brought th

s the truth, wrapped in a lie, and it was utterly devastat

ough the throng of reporters. Their faces paled at the sight of the

ay!" the head of security yelle

ho had sunk to the floor, curling into a ball.

den from the cameras and the security gu

se. This was no longer a family matter the Hardings could bury with

ndant in the court of public o