Evelyn’s POV
"Do you know why your aunt was so good to you?" he continued, years of anger finally spilling out. "Because she’s not your aunt, she’s your mother! She had you with another man before marrying , and your family has been lying to for twenty years!"
The girl sat frozen in shock, totally blindsided.
Wow, even I was stunned. Maybe instead of opening a dical research lab, I should consider starting my own reality TV show.
This kind of explosive drama would definitely bring in so serious cash.
The man explained that the photograph was taken during a business trip, and he had never t before. After dropping that bombshell, he ended the call.
The viewers who had initially sympathized with the girl’s "aunt" quickly flipped. After two back-to-back exposures of false accusations, people began questioning other negative comnts about .
Right then, another viewer requested to join our livestream.
It was the man who had previously claid I’d conned his father out of his retirent savings.
He appeared to be in his thirties, with serious dark circles under his eyes. He held up a photograph of himself with his elderly father, his face full of resentnt.
"Hello everyone, I’m Mark Stevens. My father retired just last year. He’s always been careful with money, but he transferred everything he had—three million dollars!—to this woman. Three million dollars!"
Unlike the previous case with the unknown ex-uncle, I actually knew the elderly man in the photograph.
Mark continued his sob story, explaining how his father had saved every penny his entire life, how his mother had passed away early, leaving just the two of them. His father had finally retired, only to be scamd before he could even enjoy retirent.
"You claim to care so much about your father," I interrupted evenly. "Yet you had no idea about his condition?"
The truth was that Mark’s father had been a research scientist who had worked at a biotech institute for years. Upon retirent, he was diagnosed with a rare respiratory disease.
He had previously worked with my laboratory, knowing we were developing treatnts that could slow his illness.
Originally, he hadn’t planned to seek treatnt, preferring to save the money as an inheritance for his son. But then he found out his son was planning to steal his money to pay off gambling debts.
After a lifeti of being careful with money, the old man finally decided to put himself first. He invested all his money in his own treatnt, a successful therapy that could potentially let him live well into his seventies.
"I actually do know your father," I said calmly to Mark Stevens, watching his expression change from righteous anger to confusion.
"He was diagnosed with Crimson Lung Disease last year, a rare condition affecting only one in five million people."
The livestream audience went completely silent. Mark’s face paled as he realized I wasn’t denying knowing his father.
"That’s... that’s not the point," he stamred, trying to regain control of his story. "The point is that you took his money, his entire life savings!"
I kept eye contact with him through the screen. "Your father’s condition required specialized treatnt that isn’t covered by dicare or regular insurance. He chose to invest in his own survival rather than leave an inheritance to a son who was planning to use it for gambling debts."
Mark’s eyes widened. "How do you..."
"After your father recovered, he didn’t go ho," I continued, cutting him off. "He’s currently using what’s left to travel across Europe, sothing he always wanted to do but never could while supporting you."
Mark’s composure cracked. I watched it hit him that his father had deliberately chosen to disappear.
"When you couldn’t find your father and saw his accounts were empty, you started digging," I said, laying out the facts. "You bothered everyone close to him until you found out he had transferred money to my research facility."
The chat exploded with reactions, most viewers now firmly on my side after seeing the third false accusation against collapse.
Mark’s face twisted with rage. "But he really did give you all his money, didn’t he?"
"Yes, for his treatnt," I confird.
"All three million dollars?" Mark asked, desperation showing in his voice. "He spent everything on treatnt?"
I understood imdiately what he was really asking. Money spent on so mistress might be recovered through lawsuits, but money spent legitimately on dical treatnt was gone forever.
"What kind of disease costs three million dollars to treat?" Mark demanded, his voice rising. "Does your lab even have FDA approval? I’ll report you for fraud!"
I gave him a dismissive glance. "Go ahead."
Suddenly, loud pounding erupted in the background of Mark’s video. Multiple voices shouted his na. He imdiately dove under his desk, looking terrified.
"Open up, Stevens! We know you’re in there!" ca a gruff voice from outside.
"Please," he begged, his earlier toughness replaced by panic, "just help contact my father. Those guys outside are from Tony’s crew. They’ll break my legs if I don’t pay them soon!"
"I’m his only son," Mark continued desperately. "He’s the only family I have left! I haven’t even gotten married or had children yet!"
"If he lets die, how can he live with himself? How can he face my mother’s mory?"
Another voice bood through his door, "You’ve got sixty seconds, Mark, or we’re coming in!"
The tech team cut the connection without even waiting for my signal. The livestream chat fell silent, viewers clearly stunned by what they’d just witnessed. Three consecutive accusers, all exposed as liars.
I was about to end the broadcast when a connection request appeared that made the chat go absolutely crazy. The tech guy jumped, accidentally accepting it before checking with .
"Hey everyone, I’m Eric Sullivan!" announced the handso face that appeared on screen—one of the most famous singers on the planet. "I can personally back up Ms. Blackwell’s research facility. After my car accident when doctors said I had a one percent chance of making it, her team literally saved my life!"
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