Chapter 23: Whispers On The Stage
The Crown Table held its quarterly forum, open to the public. Rows of citizens filled the grand hall, the media waiting like vultures with their cameras and microphones.
Jason seized his chance. Standing tall, he raised a folder thick with fabricated evidence. “This woman,” he declared, pointing toward Amara, “is not fit to sit at this table. Her past is riddled with deceit, and her present… compromised by a man who manipulates her.”
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Gasps rippled through the room. Amara stood slowly, her gown flowing like armor, her chin unyielding. “If I am guilty of anything,” she said, her voice steady, “it is surviving a man who tried to break me. And if survival disqualifies me, then perhaps this table is not as strong as it claims.”
Her words silenced the crowd. Cameras flashed, capturing not a woman destroyed, but a queen defiant.
And from the back, Darius’s voice cut through, calm but lethal: “Enough, Jason.”
The entire room shifted. For once, it wasn’t Jason’s theatrics that commanded attention — it was Amara’s quiet, immovable strength
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