One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 39: Chapter 39
You are reading One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband ---, Chapter 39: Chapter 39. Read more chapters of One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband ---.
The stage was too bright.
Arielle blinked once, twice, as the flash of cameras pulsed in staccato bursts, trying to burn her nerves into dust. Damien stood just offstage, his eyes locked on hers—not as a shield, but as a source of fire.
Behind her, the massive digital screen bore the words: KINGSTON FUTURES — FORWARD TOGETHER.
Ahead of her, a sea of journalists waited.
Waiting to doubt.
Waiting to dissect.
Waiting to destroy.
She stepped forward anyway.
“My name is Arielle Kingston,” she began, her voice steady despite the tremor in her fingertips, “and I am not here to ask for your approval.”
A flicker of movement in the crowd.
“But I will not allow silence to rewrite my story, or my children’s, or my husband’s.”
She paused, letting that word settle.
Husband.
There had been so much speculation.
Was it real?
Was she legal?
Was she just a scandal wrapped in a wedding ring?
“I did not marry into wealth. I married into war. A war of legacy, power, betrayal—and yes, love. But don’t mistake my silence these last few weeks for shame.”
Her gaze scanned the rows of cameras.
“I’ve stayed silent because I believed the truth would win without words. But the truth doesn’t just speak. It must be spoken.”
A slideshow began behind her—photos of the children playing, moments of her and Damien working late into the night, screenshots of her development plans for Kingston Futures. All timestamped. All real.
“I am not a gold digger,” she said. “I’m a builder. I’ve helped create the family unit that keeps this empire together. I’ve raised eight children—our children—while contributing to sustainable initiatives, global food tech, and education reforms that this company now profits from.”
She leaned closer to the mic.
“If you want to strip me of a title, try. But don’t you dare strip me of my truth.”
Applause. Not from all, but from enough.
Arielle turned to leave—but paused.
“And one last thing,” she said over her shoulder.
“The next time you try to paint me as the villain, remember: even villains bleed when they’ve been betrayed.”
She stepped offstage.
Damien was there.
His eyes glistened.
“You were brilliant,” he said.
“I wasn’t trying to be brilliant,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against his. “I was trying to be heard.”
And at last, she was.
Online sentiment shifted overnight. Hashtags trended. Influencers dissected every line of her speech. Moms posted their support. Women in business cheered her resolve. And even a few former enemies offered veiled respect.
It wasn’t over.
But Arielle had turned the tide.
And for the first time, she wasn’t just standing behind Damien.
She was standing beside him.
And taller than ever before.
Arielle blinked once, twice, as the flash of cameras pulsed in staccato bursts, trying to burn her nerves into dust. Damien stood just offstage, his eyes locked on hers—not as a shield, but as a source of fire.
Behind her, the massive digital screen bore the words: KINGSTON FUTURES — FORWARD TOGETHER.
Ahead of her, a sea of journalists waited.
Waiting to doubt.
Waiting to dissect.
Waiting to destroy.
She stepped forward anyway.
“My name is Arielle Kingston,” she began, her voice steady despite the tremor in her fingertips, “and I am not here to ask for your approval.”
A flicker of movement in the crowd.
“But I will not allow silence to rewrite my story, or my children’s, or my husband’s.”
She paused, letting that word settle.
Husband.
There had been so much speculation.
Was it real?
Was she legal?
Was she just a scandal wrapped in a wedding ring?
“I did not marry into wealth. I married into war. A war of legacy, power, betrayal—and yes, love. But don’t mistake my silence these last few weeks for shame.”
Her gaze scanned the rows of cameras.
“I’ve stayed silent because I believed the truth would win without words. But the truth doesn’t just speak. It must be spoken.”
A slideshow began behind her—photos of the children playing, moments of her and Damien working late into the night, screenshots of her development plans for Kingston Futures. All timestamped. All real.
“I am not a gold digger,” she said. “I’m a builder. I’ve helped create the family unit that keeps this empire together. I’ve raised eight children—our children—while contributing to sustainable initiatives, global food tech, and education reforms that this company now profits from.”
She leaned closer to the mic.
“If you want to strip me of a title, try. But don’t you dare strip me of my truth.”
Applause. Not from all, but from enough.
Arielle turned to leave—but paused.
“And one last thing,” she said over her shoulder.
“The next time you try to paint me as the villain, remember: even villains bleed when they’ve been betrayed.”
She stepped offstage.
Damien was there.
His eyes glistened.
“You were brilliant,” he said.
“I wasn’t trying to be brilliant,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against his. “I was trying to be heard.”
And at last, she was.
Online sentiment shifted overnight. Hashtags trended. Influencers dissected every line of her speech. Moms posted their support. Women in business cheered her resolve. And even a few former enemies offered veiled respect.
It wasn’t over.
But Arielle had turned the tide.
And for the first time, she wasn’t just standing behind Damien.
She was standing beside him.
And taller than ever before.
End of One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- Chapter 39. Continue reading Chapter 40 or return to One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- book page.