Rejected by Three, I Chose Revenge Chapter 17
The first wave hit before I’d even finished my morning coffee
My phone buzzed incessantly on the marble kitchen counter of the Vance penthouse, notification after notification flooding the screen Social media mentions, news alerts, missed calls from reporters-the digital avalanche had begun.
#JusticeForHazel is trending.” Lucas announced from across the room, his fingers flying across his tablet. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok-everywhere The public response is overwhelming.”
I scrolled through the flood of messages, my chest tightening with each post I read. Strangers were sharing their own stories of family betrayal, of being overtooked in favor of golden children, of fighting for recognition they deserved. The outpouring of support felt surreal after years of being invisible
**Finally someone exposed these rich family lies. Hazel deserves EVERYTHING.”*
**Imagine growing up thinking you’re worthless when you’re actually the rightful heir. My heart breaks for her.”*
**Richard Whitman is disgusting. How do you steal your own daughter’s life like that?”*
But it was the video responses that hit hardest. Young women recording themselves in their cars, tears streaming down their faces as they talked about feeling unwanted, about being the scapegoat child, about finally seeing someone like them win. Their pain mirrored my own so perfectly it made my throat
close up.
Caleb rolled his wheelchair closer, his presence grounding me as the emotional weight threatened to overwhelm. “The board made the right choice,” he said quietly. “The market’s responding positively too. Whitman Group’s stock actually rose three points this morning.”
I nodded, but my attention was caught by a new notification. Vivian had posted something.
The video was painful to watch. She sat in what looked like a hotel room, her usually perfect hair disheveled, mascara streaked across her cheeks. Her voice cracked as she spoke directly into the camera.
“I know what everyone’s saying about me,” she began, her words punctuated by hiccupping sobs. “But you have to understand-I never knew. I never asked to be part of some conspiracy. I was just a child who thought she was loved.”
She wiped her nose with a tissue, the gesture somehow making her look younger and more vulnerable. “Hazel is trying to paint me as this villain, but I’m not I’m just someone who found out her entire life was a lie. Don’t I deserve compassion too?”
The comments section was brutal. For every person expressing sympathy, ten others tore into her performance, calling it manipulative, fake, desperate Someone had already created a compilation video comparing her current tears to clips of her laughing at charity events while I stood ignored in the background.
Girl, you lived the stolen life for 23 years. Time to face consequences.”*
“Acting classes finally paying off, I see.”*
“The audacity to play victim when YOU were the one benefiting from the lie.”*
My phone rang, interrupting my scroll through the digital carnage. Eleanor’s name flashed on the screen-the woman who’d raised me but never truly
mothered me
“Hazel. Her voice was strained, exhausted. “We need to talk.”
1
“Do we?” I kept my tone neutral, though my grip tightened on the phone.
“This has gone too far. The media, the public attacks-Richard is getting death threats. Vivian hasn’t stopped crying for two days You’ve made your point Isn’t it time to show some mercy?”
The word ‘mercy’ hit me like a slap. “Mercy? Where was mercy when I spent my childhood begging for scraps of attention? Where was mercy when you watched Richard favor his illegitimate daughter over his real one?”
“You don’t understand the pressure we were under-”
“No, Eleanor. You don’t understand.” I stood, pacing to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. “I spent twenty-three years being told I wasn’t
enough, that I didn’t matter, that I should be grateful for whatever crumbs you threw my way And now that the truth is out, you want me to protect the p who destroyed my childhood?”
Silence stretched between us, filled with years of unspoken resentment
“Richard is still your father,” she said finally, her voice small
‘Biologically, yes. In every way that matters? He stopped being my father the day he chose to raise another man’s daughter as his heir while treating me likke
an inconvenience’
I ended the call before she could respond, my hands shaking with residual anger. Through the window, I could see news vans still parked outside the Whitman Group building, reporters doing live broadcasts about the ongoing scandal.
Lucas approached with another update. “Richard’s business partners are pulling out. The Meridian deal fell through this morning, and the Singapore investors want nothing to do with the controversy. His personal accounts are being frozen pending the SEC investigation
I should have felt satisfaction at his financial ruin, but instead, I felt something closer to emptiness. This wasn’t about money-it had never been about money. It was about acknowledgment, about finally being seen as worthy of the love and respect I’d been denied.
“And Vivian?” I asked.
*Posted three more videos since this morning. Each one more desperate than the last. She’s claiming you fabricated evidence, that the DNA tests were
somehow faked. Her credibility is… deteriorating rapidly.”
I pulled up her latest post, watching as she sat in the same hotel room, now wearing a different outfit but looking even more disheveled. This time, she was holding up printed emails, claiming they proved I’d been planning this ‘attack’ for months.
“Look at these messages,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying. “She’s been working with that man, that Caleb Vance, to destroy our family This isn’t about truth-it’s about revenge. She’s using her marriage to hurt innocent people.”
But the emails she showed were clearly selective, taken out of context, and the public wasn’t buying it. The comment section was even more savage than
before.
“Ma’am, this is embarrassing. Just stop.”*
The secondhand embarrassment is real.”*
*When you’re in a hole, stop digging.”*
Caleb’s hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture of quiet support. “She’s making it worse for herself,” he observed. ‘Every video, every desperate attempt to control the narrative just reinforces the public’s perception that she’s manipulative and entitled.”
I nodded, watching the view count on her latest video climb while the like-to-dislike ratio plummeted. The court of public opinion had rendered its verdict, and it wasn’t in her favor.
My assistant knocked on the penthouse door, carrying a stack of newspapers and magazines. The headlines screamed across every front page: ‘WHITMAN DYNASTY CRUMBLES, THE REAL HEIRESS RISES,” “SWITCHED AT BIRTH: A BILLIONAIRE FAMILY’S DARKEST SECRET”
But it was the smaller stories that caught my attention-business associates distancing themselves from Richard, social clubs revoking memberships, charity boards removing both him and Vivian from their positions. The systematic dismantling of their carefully constructed social world was happening faster than I’d anticipated.
“Tomorrow,” I said, turning away from the window to face Caleb and Lucas, “I want to tour the Whitman Group offices. It’s time to start rebuilding what they destroyed.”
Caleb’s smile was sharp with approval. “And the media requests?”
“No interviews. Not yet.” I looked back at the city sprawling below us, at the empire I was about to inherit and transform “Let them keep talking Let Vivian keep digging her own grave with those pathetic videos. When I’m ready to speak, the world will listen.”
The war was far from over, but watching my enemies destroy themselves with their own desperation felt like a victory all its own.
