Nathan Prescott's face darkened with fury. His fingers curled into fists as he glared at his assistant. "When did I ever authorize positive coverage for Amy Sinclair? Are you all incompetent?"

He slammed his palm against the mahogany desk, the sound echoing through the office. "Scrub every favorable mention of her—immediately! Dig up whatever dirt you can find, true or not. Flood the internet with trolls. I refuse to let her walk away unscathed!"

His assistant swallowed hard, unease flickering in his gaze. "Mr. Prescott... Amy just donated ten million dollars to charity. The public adores her now. Even major outlets are praising her generosity. Are you certain this is the right move?"

Nathan's jaw clenched, veins bulging at his temples.

"I don't care. Destroy her reputation. Now."

The assistant exhaled in resignation. A journalism graduate, he knew better. Attacking Amy now would only backfire spectacularly.

"Sir," he ventured carefully, "with Amy's current popularity, smear campaigns won't work. They'll make us look petty. The public is firmly on her side."

He continued, "Before that livestream, we could've twisted her donation as suspicious. But after that reporter's ambush backfired? She turned it into a PR victory. We played right into her hands."

"My advice? Retreat and regroup."

Nathan froze, stunned. He had orchestrated that ambush, intending to humiliate Amy publicly. Instead, he'd handed her the perfect platform to shine.

The realization hit him like a slap.

"Pull everything," he snapped abruptly. "Delete the negative posts. Cancel the influencer contracts."

Relief washed over the assistant. "Understood. I'll handle it."

But before he could move, Nathan's phone rang again.

The PR manager's panicked voice crackled through. "Mr. Prescott, it's too late. The positive articles about Amy—they went live ten minutes ago..."

Nathan exploded. "Are you insane? I ordered you to ruin her, not praise her!"

The manager sounded near tears. "Sir, I followed your instructions! When Amy's donation went viral, I called you. You said it was your strategy—attack first, then flip the narrative..."

He had assumed Nathan was executing some masterful PR reversal. After all, Nathan had personally shared Amy's livestream initially.

The manager had watched the ambush unfold, expecting Amy to crumble. Instead, she'd dismantled the trap effortlessly.

For a fleeting moment, he'd believed Nathan was a genius, orchestrating an unprecedented publicity coup.

Now, he realized—he'd been played. By Amy.

And Nathan had fallen right into her trap.