Facade of Love

Chapter 150

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Chapter 150 You don’t get to tell me what to do

Gossip about the rich and famous always garnered attention, and just the headline alone

was enough to get everyone clicking. The article practically spelt out that it was dishing

the dirt on Moore and me While the Scotts‘ Group might not stretch across the globe like

the Youngs, we had plenty of clout and projects back home. Once the story with our

names hit the web, it shot straight to the top of the trending list

The article was so clear–cut and hit so close to home that the comment section turned into

a firing squad aimed at Moore.

After reading the piece, netizens could not stop themselves from chiming in.

Netizen A posted, “Scumbags come in all flavors, and Miss Scott here is the latest brand of

female

lowlife.”

Netizen B clapped back, “Watch your mouth up there. Read the fine print. She’s adopted,

so she’s not

a true Scott.”

Netizen C added, “This just goes to show, you can’t just take in someone else’s kid. Bad

genes only breed trouble, and no amount of effort can turn a bad seed good.

Netizen D went for the jugular, “Some people’s greed knows no bounds. She didn’t even

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bother to repay the family that raised her before she started eyeing their billions. It’s

downright evil. Lucky for the real Scotts‘ daughter, she’s safe. Otherwise, for someone like

her, nothing would be punishment. enough.”

The netizens‘ fury, mixed with their own life’s gripes, spilled out through their keyboards,

hurling the nastiest insults they could muster.

Some even went as far as to dox Moore, unearthing private moments between her and

Idris, along

a mix of made–up and maybe heard–somewhere tales of her trying to lure him in.

And then there were those scenes at the police station, where her own mother was tearing

into her, all caught on camera and now blasted for the world to see

Suddenly, Moore was the talk of the town, with her name plastered across the top ten

trending spots online.

Rumors were flying left and right–some saying she did all sorts of crazy things to snag

Noah when they got hitched.

Others were dishing dirt about her college days at Mandala, like hooking up with an

upperclassinan, catching HPV, and even having an abortion.

There was even this wild story about her trying to charm a big shot’s son in Mandala, but

ending up getting ditched in the street without her clothes on

Basically, every bit of gossip, whether it was true or not, was being dug up by the online

crowd and dumped right on Moore’s doorstep.

As I watched the internet tear Moore to shreds, I handed Idris’s phone back to him and

massaged my temples. “I didn’t start this fire,” I told him. He had not asked, but by the

way he brought it up, it was like he was fishingfor an answer.

I mean, who else would have it out for Moore like I did?

Idris’s brow.creased, and he locked eyes with me, his l*ps a tight line. “I know that,” he

said.

I stopped short, puzzled. If he knew I was not behind it, why was he showing me all this

drama?

He must have caught the question in my eyes because he arched an eyebrow and said, “If

you really wanted to take her down, you would not have turned down the dirt I dug up at

the restaurant.”

He said it so coolly and easily that it took me a second to catch up. I stared at him, trying

to figure out

what he was getting at

With a calm look and steady eyes, he added, “Someone close to you must’ve written that

article, stepping into the ring for you.”

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I stopped in my tracks, a name flashing through my mind. I had read enough of Sweety’s

pieces to recognize her style anywhere–sharp, to the point, just like the article causing a

stir online. Plus, her subtle way of having my back and the blatant loathing for Moore that

bled through her words left no doubt in my mind. She was the only one who could’ve

penned something like this.

Even with Sweety as my prime suspect, I kept it to myself and faced Idris, asking, “What’s

your plan?”

I was not born yesterday. He was not rushing to comfort a wounded Moore; instead, he

was here, grilling me, clearly aiming to pinpoint the author and quell the online frenzy,

Idris seemed to pick up on my cool tone, his expression softening a touch, but his eyes still

held that calm, soothing quality as he said, “Moore’s due in a few months. After the baby’s

born, she’ll face whatever consequences are coming. I’ll see to that.”

He did not spell out what he expected from me, just laid out his game plan for Moore. I did

not buy that he would actually come down hard on her, but I got the hint loud and clear.

He was telling me to steer clear of trouble, especially with Moore expecting

If he thought I was upset, well, I had been numb to that a long time ago, I met his gaze,

my voice steady, “Idris, who you choose to shield is your call. What I or anyone else in my

circle decides to do is our choice. You’ve got your ways to protect her, but you don’t get to

tell me what to do.”

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