"Disgraced artist? You must be joking!" Samantha's voice trembled with outrage. "Just because of some baseless rumors about Benjamin? Those allegations could be completely fabricated! How dare you cancel our concert?"

The voice on the other end remained calm. "It's merely a temporary postponement. If you can provide evidence clearing Benjamin's name, the concert will proceed as scheduled."

Samantha's grip tightened around her phone. "They're the ones making accusations—shouldn't they be the ones proving it? You're branding Benjamin a disgrace based on a few edited clips? That's beyond reckless!"

An uncomfortable pause followed. "This... this is a directive from the executives. We're just following protocol."

Samantha opened her mouth to argue further, but Amy gently touched her wrist, shaking her head in warning.

She knew Amy was right—no amount of reasoning would change their minds. But the injustice burned in her chest.

For now, the only option was to follow Amy's plan: confront the accuser head-on and demand a paternity test.

...

Yet while Samantha was busy clashing with the so-called whistleblower online, another crisis erupted at the studio.

Someone had leaked Benjamin's studio address.

Within hours, a flood of hate mail arrived—funeral wreaths, grotesque dolls, and other disturbing items.

Worse, a mob had gathered outside the building, shouting demands for Benjamin to face them.

It was Isabella's first official day. The moment she spotted the angry crowd, her blood ran cold.

Without hesitation, she called Amy.

After listening to Isabella's shaky explanation, Amy spoke softly. "Go home for today. Samantha has already secured a new studio space. Once we've settled in, you can return in a few days."

"Understood."

Isabella hung up, ready to slip away unnoticed—until a tall, sharply dressed man blocked her path.

"Isabella, I finally found you."

She looked up, her face paling.

"Julian?!"

...

In just forty-eight hours, Samantha's public feud with the accuser had sent the scandal spiraling into chaos.

Time was running out. If Benjamin's name wasn't cleared soon, the concert would be impossible to salvage. Even if it proceeded, no one would buy tickets if his reputation remained tarnished.

Samantha didn't hesitate—she publicly challenged the accuser to a paternity test.

Suddenly, the other party went silent.

At first, public opinion had been overwhelmingly against Benjamin. But now, the tide was shifting. He still had loyal fans—while many had abandoned him after the scandal broke, his most devoted supporters refused to back down.

Yet anyone who dared defend him was immediately labeled a "delusional fangirl," mocked relentlessly until they retreated into silence.

Still, Benjamin's willingness to fight back suggested he had nothing to hide.

Of course, critics sneered that the last celebrity who claimed innocence was now serving time.

After a day of silence, the accuser finally responded—they agreed to the test.

Everyone knew refusal would be an admission of guilt.

Samantha read their reply, her excitement barely contained. "Celeste, Benjamin's about to turn this around!"

But Amy didn't share her enthusiasm. Her brows were furrowed, worry darkening her gaze.

Samantha's smile faded. "Celeste, what's wrong? Isn't this good news?"

"Maybe," Amy murmured. "I just hope I'm overthinking this."

Lately, everything had been happening at once. Exhausted and stressed, Amy had caught a cold. That evening, after preparing dinner for Oliver, she realized she was burning up.

Worried about infecting him, she immediately called Sebastian Kingsley.

"Mr. Kingsley, I'm not feeling well. Would you mind taking Oliver home for a few days?"