Chapter 2- Everyone knows
1285 Words
I walked out of Damian’s office with my head high like I’d won, but my chest was still tight.
My heels were hitting the floor louder than I even realized, echoing down the hall. Every step felt heavy, like I was trying to stomp the whole building down.
My hands wouldn’t stay still either, I kept clenching them. That man had the nerve to smirk at me. Smirk, after everything he’d done.
“This isn’t over,” he’d said.
Well, he was right about that.
By the time I reached the elevator my stomach was twisted up. I pressed the button too hard and I saw my own reflection staring back at me in the steel. I looked calm, almost cold, like nothing could shake me. But inside I was still boiling.
My heart wouldn’t slow down, my head kept replaying his stupid face, that little smug grin like he thought he’d already won and that damn article.
---
It had started that morning.
I was half-asleep, still buried under the blankets, when my door slammed open.
“Can you believe this?” Violet’s voice pierced through my half-dream.
I groaned, pulling the blanket tighter. “Vi, it’s too early—”
She ignored me. She stormed into the room, waving a newspaper like a weapon. “No, you don’t get it. You need to read this. Right now.”
I sat up, hair a mess and my eyes heavy. She tossed the paper onto my bed, and the bold black headline nearly punched me in the face.
New York’s Untouchable Dynasty: How the Fairchilds Keep Winning—Even When Blood Is Spilled.
I froze. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.
My eyes scanned the first lines, and my stomach twisted harder with each word. Evelyn Pierce. Of course it was her. She thought she was so immune because she was Damian's fianceè and also the governor's daughter.
“For years, the Fairchilds have hidden behind galas and speeches. But insiders reveal bribery, intimidation, and blood behind their empire. Even the death of Charles Fairchild, her father, is said to be no outside attack at all, but an inside job.”
I gripped the paper so tight the edges bent and crumpled.
“She’s lying,” Violet said quickly, almost too quickly. “Everyone knows she’s lying. But Sienna—it’s on the front page. Everyone at school is already talking.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and that broke something inside me.
I threw the paper aside and pulled her close. “Listen to me. Dad was murdered. We both know it. Evelyn can write all the trash she wants, but she can’t rewrite the truth.”
Her eyes were shiny with tears. “They’re saying he killed himself.”
I kissed her forehead. My throat was tight, but I kept my voice steady. “Don’t listen to them. You hear me? Don’t.”
She sniffled, nodding slowly. But the damage was already done. Evelyn had planted the seed, and my little sister was bleeding from it.
“Go get ready for school,” I told her softly. “Let me handle this.”
She looked at me like she wanted to say more, but instead she just hugged me tight and left the room.
The second the door closed, I picked up the paper again. I forced myself to read more, even though each word made my blood boil. Evelyn’s smug voice practically echoed in my head. She wasn’t just after me—she was dragging my father, twisting his memory, using his death like it was nothing but ink for her career.
And Damian had let it happen.
---
By the time I reached my office, the anger in me had hardened into something solid. The board was waiting.
They sat around the long table like vultures waiting for a carcass. All suits and fake smiles. My uncle at the far end, smug as ever, fingers tapping like he’d already won.
One of the older men cleared his throat. “Miss Fairchild, about the article—”
“Don’t,” I snapped before he could finish.
The room went still.
Another man leaned forward, papers in hand. “Your father was… respected. But this piece paints a troubling picture. It suggests—”
“Suggests what?” I cut him off, my eyes sharp. “That he staged his own death? That he was corrupt? That he deserved it? Say it.”
The man’s face flushed. He shut his mouth quickly.
My uncle chuckled. “You’re too emotional, Sienna. And that’s exactly what Evelyn Pierce wanted. She knows how to hit. She struck the right nerve.”
I leaned across the table, planting my palms flat against the polished wood. “And you’re loving it, aren’t you?”
His smirk didn’t fade. “I’m simply saying this company cannot afford the reputation damage. You’re young. You don’t see the bigger picture.”
I felt the eyes of every board member on me, waiting for me to break.
“You all sit here sipping your coffee while Evelyn Pierce trashes my father’s name,” I spat. “You expect me to sit still and smile? Wrong girl.”
Some of them shifted uncomfortably. One whispered something to another. My uncle leaned back in his chair like he was watching a show.
I didn’t give them more of my time. I grabbed my bag, stood up, and walked out, ignoring the murmurs that followed me.
---
Back in my office, Olivia tried to play peacemaker. She placed coffee on my desk like it would fix anything.
“Ma’am, maybe you should take a moment—”
“I don’t need a moment.” My voice came out sharp.
She stepped back, quiet, her eyes darting to the paper still in my hand.
I dropped into my chair, pulled the phone toward me, and dialed The Times.
The editor answered almost instantly, like he’d been waiting. “Miss Sienna.” His voice was too tight, too fake.
“Why is my family on your front page?” I demanded. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
He hesitated. “Miss Pierce came to us with evidence—”
“Evidence?” I barked out a bitter laugh. “You mean lies. You think smearing my father’s name makes you credible? Take it down. Today.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“You can. And you will. Or I’ll sue you until you don’t have a building left to work in. Don’t forget who kept your paper alive when it was sinking. My father kept you standing when everyone else turned their back.”
There was silence. Then his tone changed. Less shaky, more smug. “Miss Fairchild, things have changed. Damian Lexington is now a major shareholder. He approved the article. Evelyn Pierce had his full support. We don’t need Fairchild money anymore.”
The phone nearly slipped from my grip. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. The Lexingtons own us now.”
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “So you let them use you like their personal weapon? To smear my father’s name? To smear me?”
“It’s business,” he said flatly. “And business is about power.” His voice dripped with satisfaction. “Good day, Miss Fairchild.”
The line went dead.
I slammed the receiver down so hard the sound echoed in the office. My chest rose and fell fast, every breath sharp.
Damian. Evelyn. The Lexington .
They thought they could humiliate me.
They had no idea what they’d just started.
- Writer
