At this mont, all the doubts in her heart were revealed.
Starting with that fake staff mber, all of this was an elaborate sche by Shannon Yarrow!
The journalists’ questions beca increasingly intense, even escalating to physical shoving.
Holly stumbled, her heel already pressed against the edge of the fountain at the center of the hotel lobby.
So young girls who recognized Holly tried to squeeze in to help her speak up, even taking out their phones to call the police.
But they were quickly pushed away by the male reporters, with so even knocked to the ground.
Despite the chaos on the first floor, hotel security and event organizers were slow to appear.
Holly smirked coldly, realizing that today, no one would co to her rescue.
She could only rely on herself.
She quickly glanced at the fountain behind her.
The water wasn’t deep, just about up to her calves.
A crystal chandelier hung from the center above, which she could reach on tiptoe.
As long as she "accidentally" fell in and "coincidentally" pulled down the chandelier, the hotel wouldn’t be able to ignore it any longer!
The water wasn’t deep, and she had just changed into long pants, so it shouldn’t be too embarrassing.
Holly took a silent breath, looking at the people in front of her like jackals.
She stopped retreating, slightly bent her knees, and as she contemplated how to jump in naturally, the lobby suddenly fell silent.
Then, several deep and rugged voices parted the crowd and ca through.
"Make way!"
A group of bodyguards in uniform black suits quickly took control of the reporters.
Their actions were swift and efficient, instantly bringing the chaotic scene under control.
The crowd parted to form a path.
Blake Sinclair’s face was somber, his eyes filled with a barely suppressed fury.
He strode forward to Holly, ignoring all the caras and gazes around.
He imdiately checked Holly from head to toe, and after confirming she wasn’t hurt, he shielded her behind him.
Blake Sinclair lifted his gaze to the second floor corridor.
Shannon Yarrow still had a smug smile on his lips, but when he t Blake’s gaze, his face turned pale, and he subconsciously stepped back into the shadows.
Blake’s gaze didn’t linger, turning instead to the group of reporters restrained by the bodyguards.
Where his gaze fell, the air seed to freeze, the powerful pressure making the previously arrogant reporters not dare to lift their heads.
Everyone was well aware of Blake Sinclair’s thods.
Seeing them now cowering like quails, Holly felt a fire ignite within her.
She stepped out from behind Blake, walking up to the lead male reporter, her gaze icy.
"A journalist’s microphone is to help those who cannot voice themselves, to seek truth and justice! Not to be abused like this, becoming a weapon for bullying others and spreading rumors!"
She snatched the recorder and cara from the male reporter’s hands.
She opened them to check the recorded images and sneered.
The male reporter’s face turned ashen instantly, not daring to lift his head, stamring for rcy, "I’m sorry! Teacher Holly! I’m sorry, President Sinclair! We were wrong! Please have rcy on us, we won’t dare do it again."
Listening to his insincere apology, Holly responded with biting sarcasm, "You know to apologize now? What happened to that determination to drive soone to despair earlier?"
At this mont, Blake Sinclair stepped forward, taking the recorder from Holly’s hand.
He pressed the play button.
"Holly, are you a howrecker?"
"Holly, did you go to great lengths to marry Blake Sinclair for money?"
The malicious and insulting questions played out loud, word for word.
Blake Sinclair’s face steadily darkened, and the reporters’ heads drooped lower, wishing they could find a hole to disappear into.
He turned off the recorder, looking at the group of reporters, "Weren’t you here for an interview? Now, I’ll give you the opportunity."
The reporters never dread they’d be forced into such an interview.
They scrambled to set up their equipnt again, their hands shaking as they gripped the microphone.
Blake Sinclair glanced at the shaking hand with indifference, his voice even deeper, "If a reporter can’t even hold a microphone steady, what’s the use?"
The reporter jolted, gripping the microphone with both hands, forcing himself to calm down.
"Ask away," Blake Sinclair commanded.
The reporter stamred and stuttered through the prepared question, "President... President Sinclair, there’s a rumor online saying you and Teacher Holly are preparing for a divorce. Is it... is it true?"
"False."
Blake Sinclair’s gaze fell on the lenses, as if piercing through the screens to stare directly at the rumormongers.
"The legal departnt of Sinclair Group has initiated relevant legal proceedings. We will hold accountable anyone, individual or dia, who fabricates and spreads false information. The internet isn’t a lawless place; none will be spared."
The questioning reporter’s back was drenched in cold sweat, but he didn’t dare wipe it and hurriedly threw out the next question, "Then... then, President Sinclair, do you have a response to the online rumors about your marriage with Teacher Holly?"
Blake Sinclair’s gaze turned to Holly, protected by bodyguards, his eyes softening instantly, "My wife, Holly, is my first love, my one true love of this lifeti."
"Failing to protect her, allowing her to endure these rumors repeatedly, is my incompetence as a husband."
He paused slightly, looking into Holly’s eyes, "Holly, I’m sorry."
His gaze locked onto Holly’s tear-filled eyes, "Holly, these past few days you’ve kept asking why I care so much about the jokes online about my age."
His voice grew lower, laced with a fragile honesty, "I’m three years older than you; if nothing unexpected happens, I’ll leave this world before you. I’m afraid that one day when I’m gone, without soone to protect you like I do, you’ll suffer grievances like today."
He struggled to suppress the surging emotions, his voice carrying a faint tremble.
Holly’s tears instantly broke free, flowing uncontrollably.
Her throat felt choked, leaving her unable to utter a word through her sobs.
The surrounding onlookers, especially the young won, couldn’t help but cover their mouths, teary-eyed, moved to the core by Blake Sinclair’s profound love.
"Holly, I love you more than anything in this world." Blake Sinclair’s voice was firm and deep, bearing a devotion so honest it bordered on sacrificial.
"Everything I have is yours to share: my connections, my resources, my wealth, my status. As long as you need them, they are all yours. You can step on everything I have to climb higher, including myself."
In that mont, the man admired by so many in the Sinclair Family, personally stripped off all his halos and armor.
He laid bare the softness, the fears, and the love from the deepest part of his heart to Holly, to everyone.
This candid vulnerability moved everyone more than any strong-arm tactics could.
It turned out Blake Sinclair wasn’t all-powerful; he was just a man who knew fear, anxiety, and felt insignificant because of love.
Bystanders posted the video online.
#BlakeSinclair’sPublicConfession# and #BlakeSinclairEverythingIBelongToYou# beca instant hits online.
@IsTodayTheDayForYanzQueeCandy: [I’m crying so much! How can there be a man like President Sinclair who’s so deeply affectionate yet humble? He’s offered up all his vulnerabilities and sincerity!]
@NoTeaToday: [Who would have thought every ti we jokingly called President Sinclair an old man, he quietly worried about leaving before Holly, scared no one would protect her. ’I’m three years older, I’ll walk ahead of you’—what a devastating statent!]
@SaltAndPepperPotato: [There’s a gap in society, but as long as I’m here, I’ll protect you! What an incredible love confession! The entertainnt industry CEOs should take notes from President Sinclair!]
@YanzQuee9999999: [The YanzQuee couple is the best! I’ve swallowed the key; you’re locked in! 999999999!]
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