~CASSANDRA~
A few hours ago…
I woke to my phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. Groaning, I reached for it, squinting at the screen. Fifteen missed calls from my father. Twenty-three notifications from various news apps.
"What now?" I muttered, opening the first article.
"Watson Heiress Cassandra Hart Caught Admitting Knowledge of 'Fake' Data Breach"
My stomach dropped.
The video of me, outside the venue, asking Layla about the fake data breach press release, was everywhere. My own words, captured in crystal clear audio, played back on repeat across every social media platform.
"No, no, no..."
My phone rang again. Father.
"Hello?"
"Get to the house. Now." His voice was ice. "We need to talk about your spectacular failure last night."
The line went dead.
—
About an hour later, I stood in my father's study, my hands protectively cradling my belly. He sat behind his massive desk, his face carved from stone.
