The Queen They Buried

Chapter 207

Emery wondered, ‘How could anyone else know about this? Wasn’t his wife already gone? How did these broke, backwater peasants even get to Rithol? How did they find journalists?’

His head snapped toward Bowen, who lounged in his seat, watching with cold amusement. Emery snarled, “You did this?”

Bowen raised an eyebrow. “Honestly, this wasn’t my doing.”

Bowen came here to stop Emery from sweeping this under the rug, but he clearly overestimated Emery. Emery had crumbled without him lifting a finger.

Reporters, blocked from reaching Emery, turned on the nearby Rosepoly staff instead.

Rosepoly Group’s annual gala was live-streamed.

Even before the media could report on it, the news had already gone viral online.

Online platforms were swamped with viral reports of Rosepoly Group’s deadly negligence, right at the height of Christmas. The news sparked outrage among blue-collar workers like Logan. Though they were strangers, the shared bitter fate and heartbreak hit home, as any one of them could have been next.

This time, there was no way even the Wilson Group could bury this.

Aubree lounged back, watching Rosepoly Group’s annual gala descend into chaos on the livestream. ‘An unscrupulous company that harms both others and itself really ought to go bankrupt sooner rather than later.’

She sent a message.

Aubree: [Execute the plan.]

exactly as Aubree had planned, Bowen didn’t linger. Meeting Emery’s dazed gaze,

Rosepoly is disgusting And frankly?

a faint, mocking

Had he not grabbed the armrest, the public humiliation would have

were genuine or just a front, at this moment, the only person Emery truly cared about was

preferable. At least it

cared about and so desperately wanted forgiveness from, found

longer care about the circling reporters. A bitter, resigned smile touched his lips. ‘So all those things before… were Aubree’s

Exposing everything at the annual meeting must have been part of her

start.

1/2

Chapter 207

If deeper secrets came to light, the company

moment to savor Emery’s expression before leisurely exiting

lost control, seized the chance

microphones swarmed, shoving

“Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson!”

“Mr. Wilson! Mr. Wilson!”