Chapter 880
Chapter 880:
Suddenly, a voice cut through the chaos like a knife. “Everyone step back and give me some room!” The distinctive roar of a chainsaw engine filled the air. Someone had actually managed to get their hands on a chainsaw and was preparing to cut straight through the iron door.
The caregiver’s heart felt like it was going to explode right out of her chest. If they cut through that door, what would stop this crazed mob from turning that same chainsaw on her? These people were so obsessed with Vivian that they seemed capable of absolutely anything.
She had to find a way to stall for time until help arrived. That was her only chance of getting out of this alive.
“Wait!” she called out desperately to the people on the other side of the door. “I have something important to show p>
“What kind of something?” demanded the person who was holding up a phone to livestream the entire encounter to thousands of viewers.
The caregiver opened the voice recording app on her phone, her fingers still shaking. She carefully slid the phone under the small gap beneath the door.
For weeks, she had been preparing for something like this. She always carried a small recording device in her pocket and also used her phone to capture important conversations and events. Just today, during the charity sale, she had recorded everything on her phone as a precaution.
Originally, she had planned to use these recordings as bargaining chips with Brandon or Myron, hoping they would offer her protection in exchange for the information she held. But now, saving her own life had to come first. Everything else was secondary.
The recording would have to be played for the people outside, which would buy her precious time. After they heard what was on it, they might start fighting among themselves instead of focusing on breaking down her door. And finally, since Vivian loved livestreaming so much—loved putting on dramatic performances and spreading lies about innocent people—the caregiver figured it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine. The thought filled her with both rage and grim satisfaction.
“You people have forced me into this!” she shouted through the door. “Even with all the evidence in the world, you still refuse to see that you’ve been worshipping the wrong person! You’d rather blame me than face the truth p>
𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚:
Just beyond the iron door, one of the livestreamers lunged forward and snatched the caregiver’s phone. The screen lit up, showing the playback window. Without a moment’s pause, she tapped it, letting the recording roll. To make sure all the viewers watching the livestream could hear every word clearly, she held both phones close together and cranked the recording volume to maximum.
A whispered symphony of background static crackled through the speakers, creating an atmosphere thick with anticipation. Just as everyone had resigned themselves to believing the caregiver’s elaborate deception had reached its climax, Vivian’s unmistakable voice pierced through the electronic haze.
“Our products are mixed in with the goods, right?” Her words carried a hushed urgency yet rang crystal clear through the audio feed.
Silence stretched like a taut wire before Vivian’s voice sounded again. The recording revealed she was clearly engaged in a phone conversation, having delivered her opening gambit while waiting for her mysterious accomplice to respond.
Inside the studio, Vivian’s most devoted supporters found themselves drowning in a sea of bewilderment and mounting dread. One puzzled voice broke through the collective stupor. “What products? Mixed with what? What could she possibly be referring to p>