The Queen They Buried

Chapter 377

Bree Technology put out a statement. They were holding a press conference to talk about the whole GrabCheap selling shoddy goods mess.

*****

This was the first time since the GrabCheap scandal broke out that Bree Technology was stepping up to face the press directly.

In an instant, every reporter who’d been eyeing this story went absolutely nuts. If they could land an exclusive scoop, that meant money in the bank.

At the moment, the two hottest stories around were Bree Technology and the latest rumors swirling about Trevor.

Compared to the entertainment gossip that was just a bit of fun, the Bree Technology scandal–where actual lives were at stake -was way more attention–grabbing.

To make things even juicier, Aubree, Bree Technology’s biggest shareholder and chairwoman, just happened to be Trevor’s

sister.

So even if the reporters couldn’t get the inside scoop on GrabCheap, digging for dirt on Trevor was still a scoop worth cashing

in on.

Quantavius’s people could even act, they got invitations from Bree Technology to

out laughing. “Does Aubree really think she’s all that? Does she see herself as some kind of savior

thought, ‘Inviting the very people I’ve already bought off?

so eager to dig her own grave, who am I to stop her?” Quantavius sneered. Not only did he let those people accept the

genuinely curious to see what tricks this so–called young startup genius had up her

packed to the rafters. All the major media outlets in Südlichen Strand showed up, and even the smaller

the biggest hotel in Südlichen Strand, but even that wasn’t enough. There wasn’t a single empty

open, camera flashes exploded everywhere, lighting up the entire venue

door, and Aubree led the way. She wore a dark red coat and knee–high boots, her face lightly made up. She might have only been a little over five feet four, but she

dressed in a sharp business suit and high heels, her

suited up and wearing glasses, walked on the other side. Unlike the two women’s sharp

group of top executives

with their cameras, but a group of “victims” dressed in mourning clothes. Every single one of them had a mourning band tied around their head, their tear–filled eyes locked on

past.

draped with a white sheet. Anyone could tell at a glance that there

them said, “Aubree, you heartless

“Give me back my loved one’s

“Why don’t you just die