22 Chapter 22: Why Am I To Blame?

Anne Carter was prepared. She answered calmly, "Oh, my poor Nathalia has a fever and is staying in bed. Nothing serious, though. She will be fine in a couple of days."

It sounded reasonable, and Mrs. Wilson didn't think much about it.

Everyone enjoyed their drinks and chats. Later on that night, Frank Carter presented the Heart of Ocean diamond to his beloved wife in front of everyone to demonstrate their love. Anne was extremely pleased. The couple shared a tight embrace, looking in love more than ever.

A few days later, Anne recalled the grand party she had when Evette rushed into the house, terribly worried-looking, shouting, "Mum! Mum! We are in trouble. What can we do?!"

Anne was startled. She should be at school at this hour instead. What happened? Has she caused trouble?

"What's the matter? Sweetheart. Calm down. Mum will help you."

"It's Zack. He..." Evette could hardly speak. She was so terrified that her face turned pale.

Hearing that it was Zack, Anne actually felt a bit relieved "Aha, my boy has caused trouble again. Don't worry, Evette. We will just pay hush money."

Zack only stayed home for a few days and got bored, so he had been going out with friends. It was nothing unusual if he got into trouble.

Evette couldn't calm herself down to explain, so she took her laptop, typed something, and showed it to Anne.

It was a video clip posted online.

Anne's face started to grow pale as she watched. Impossible! How could this happen?

It was a recorded video of Zack beating Nathalia, the whole incident, from beginning to end, every detail, clear and real.

Every punch and kick he threw, every word he screamed and swore.

Nathalia's bloody face. How she curled up on the floor, suffering, enduring.

How Anne and Evette stood aside, watching. How Nathalia begged them to take her to the hospital but was rejected again and again.

Even Anne's grand birthday party was recorded how she grinned and laughed at the party and what a cruel contrast is made.

As soon as the video was uploaded onto the internet, the media went crazy about it, nationally and internationally. It quickly became one of the most viewed videos and had millions of critiques.

News about families of money and fame had always been the public's favorite. This was, no doubt, sensational. People were shocked to see anything of such brutality.

It was unbelievably horrid.

Everyone condemned Anne and Evette Carter's mercilessness and vehemently reprimanded Zack for his violence and tyranny. Unforgivable.

Some viewers even discovered and revealed all the old news about Zack. About him killing the pregnant woman in the car crash and all sorts of troubles he caused and violent incidents he was involved in.

The Carters had become the public enemy overnight. Frank Carter wasn't spared either.

The hard work they had put in to build their reputation was now all wasted.

Anne Carter felt truly scared this time.

"Mum. What should we do? It's already got over one million views. All my classmates have seen it..." Evette was almost begging. She was extremely embarrassed by her classmates' reproaches as well as the teachers'

One of her classmates even pointed at her nose and called her an animal.

She felt insulted but more frustrated that she could not refute and justify herself.

I didn't do anything. It wasn't me that beat her. Why am I to blame?

She was the princess, the superstar. Everyone used to adore her and try to befriend her. But now, she was the bad girl, cruel and cold, the condemned one.

Anne Carter knew better what this was to bring to them. She almost collapsed. "Who did it? If I find out who it is, I'm going to kill them!" She was fuming.

How did it happen? This is a disaster.

Her reputation as a loving mother was now completely destroyed.

The Carters' name was ruined. They had lost their respectability. How am I going to go out and face the endless critiques? What about the future of my children? Who would ever marry my daughter now? And my son. The company. How can we persuade the shareholders to trust my son anymore?

In fact, the shareholders all grew worried and instantly put Zack on the blacklist. No chance for him to inherit the business.

Evette tried to calm herself and think. "What can we do? Ask dad. Yes. Dad must know what to do." She mumbled.

However, what was happening at the president's office of The Carter's Group was a complete mess.

Frank Carter was scratching his head with both hands, suffering from a terrible headache. It was too sudden and unexpected. The phone kept ringing. He was in a state of intense agitation. One could easily feel the tension in the air.

"Mr. Carter, ShowTime News Station, asks to interview us."

"Mr. Carter, FACT News wants to interview."

"Mr. Carter, Sun TV... '

One after another. The same request.

Frank Carter grew furious, picked up the ashtray, smashed it onto the floor, and yelled, "Shut up and get out! Leave it to the PR. I have no time for this sort of trivia!"

Without uttering a word, the secretary quickly left while thinking to himself, Trivia? It's all over the news. The whole country's talking about it. What can the PR do about it? Nothing.

That kid is a barbarian. He was beating his half-sister to death. Murderous. Shocking.

And the mother! She always seemed so kind and gentle, but she just stood there and watched! And she refused to take the girl to the hospital. Even though she is not her biological daughter, how can she treat her like that?

She's just been pretending to be a good mother. So fake. Disgusting.

Isn't she good at acting!

And Mr. Carter as well. Surely he knew his daughter had been bullied and beaten, and instead of caring for his daughter, he threw a birthday party for his wife.

I guess he doesn't treat her as his daughter.

Poor Miss Nathalia. She must have been suffering a lot. Her father doesn't love her. Her step-mother doesn't help, nor does her half-sister. And her half-brother bullies her.

Everyone in the office felt tense.

Frank Carter was throwing stuff all over in his room, kicking the chair and punching the table.