The Ring That Sank, The Love That Drowned Chapter 06

The Ring That Sank, The Love That Drowned Chapter 06

Vivian stiffened, one hand instinctively covering 

the brooch. 

Spencer stepped in front of her. 

“It’s just a brooch. Do you really have to make a 

scene over it?” 

“It’s just a brooch. Then why is she so desperate 

to keep it?” 

No one in the conference room dared speak. 

Spencer stared at me and lowered his voice. 

“Natalie, you were never like this before.” 

I smiled. 

“I used to think giving in would earn me some 

dignity.” 

I capped my pen. 

“Now I know dignity is something you have to 

claim for yourself.” 

Spencer’s expression finally changed. 

“Do you have any idea how much this project 

matters to Vaughn Group’s overseas listing?” 

“Yes.” 

I looked straight at him. 

“That’s why I pulled out today.” 

Anger flared in his eyes. 

“You planned this all along?” 

I handed the documents to my assistant. 

“Mr. Vaughn, now you get to play by my rules.” 

At one in the morning, a doctored memorial photo 

of me went viral across social media. 

Beside the black–and–white photo, someone had 

added a line in huge letters: 

[People who steal someone else’s future always 

get what’s coming to them.] 

Vivian’s fans piled on. 

Some called me heartless. 

Others accused me of coming between Spencer 

and Vivian. 

People dug up the old fellowship controversy too, 

claiming I had used the Sinclair family’s influence 

to push out someone with real talent. 

Vaughn Group said nothing. 

But every gossip account pushing the same. 

canned story carefully kept Vaughn Group out of it 

and aimed the smear squarely at me. 

My assistant’s eyes were red with anger. 

“Ms. Sinclair, do you want us to bury it?” 

I looked at the abuse flooding my screen and 

shook my head. 

“No. Let her talk.” 

At eight that morning, Vivian went live herself. 

She looked pale on camera, her voice catching as she spoke. 

“I never wanted to hurt Natalie. I let go of what happened with the fellowship years ago. I just 

never imagined she would still hate me this 

much.” 

The live chat flooded with sympathy. 

At the height of her crying, Spencer called me. 

I put him on speaker. 

His voice was hoarse. 

“Natalie, get the story buried online. I’ll make 

Vivian stop talking too.” 

I laughed. 

“She’s lying, and you want me to get the story 

buried online?” 

Silence hung on the other end for a moment. 

“You still owe her an explanation for what 

happened back then.” 

Everyone in the PR department went quiet. 

I watched daylight spread beyond the windows. 

“Spencer, I already explained what happened with 

the fellowship.” 

“You were too emotional at the time.” 

And finally, I understood. 

He hadn’t forgotten. 

He had simply treated every explanation I gave 

him as proof that I was guilty. 

I ended the call. 

Ten minutes later, I released my first piece of 

evidence. 

It wasn’t a document. 

It was an audio recording. 

On the day of the fellowship interview, Vivian was clinking glasses with a friend in an airport lounge. 

“That fellowship is way too restrictive. I’d still have 

to answer to a mentor the whole time. I’m not 

doing that. Spencer can open much better doors 

for me.” 

The internet seemed to go silent. 

Vivian’s livestream froze for three seconds. 

The tears were still wet on her face, but her 

expression had already gone rigid. 

She hurriedly ended the stream. 

It was too late. Screen recordings were already 

everywhere. 

A message from Spencer appeared on my phone. 

Spencer: [Where did you get that recording?] 

Me: [From somewhere you once chose not to look 

into.] 

For a long time, nothing else appeared 

Then another message came through. 

Spencer: [Natalie, I didn’t know.] 

I stared at those words and suddenly remembered 

my previous life. 

I had knelt outside his study, holding out the 

emails for him to see. 

He hadn’t even opened them. 

“Stop using this stuff to smear Vivian.” 

He had been given more than enough chances to 

know the truth. 

Every single time, he had chosen not to look.