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.
Before Quantavius’s people could even act, they got invitations from Bree Technology to attend the press conference.
When Quantavius heard the news, he burst out laughing. “Does Aubree really think she’s all that? Does she see herself as some kind of savior now?”
He thought, ‘Inviting the very people I’ve already bought off? She must have a death wish.
“If Aubree’s so eager to dig her own grave, who am I to stop her?” Quantavius sneered. Not only did he let those people accept the invitation, but he also planned to show up to see what kind of spectacle Aubree thought she could pull off.
He was genuinely curious to see what tricks this so–called young startup genius had up her sleeve.
With everyone eager to see the drama unfold, Bree Technology’s press conference was packed to the rafters. All the major media outlets in Südlichen Strand showed up, and even the smaller ones that didn’t get an invite were scrambling for any way to sneak inside.
Aubree had booked the biggest hotel in Südlichen Strand, but even that wasn’t enough. There wasn’t a single empty seat, and there was barely any room to stand.
When the hotel doors swung open, camera flashes exploded everywhere, lighting up the entire venue brighter than a summer sunrise–the overhead lights were completely drowned out.
The bodyguard opened the car 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 carried herself with the presence of someone twice her height.
Birgitte followed close behind, dressed in a sharp business suit and high heels, her aura every bit as commanding as Aubree’s.
Vincent Sloan, suited up and wearing glasses, walked on the other side. Unlike the two women’s sharp presence, he wore a sly, fox–like smile.
A group of top executives trailed behind them.
The people closest to the aisle weren’t the reporters 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 Aubree as she walked
past.
They’d even brought a stretcher, draped with a white sheet. Anyone could tell at a glance that there was a body underneath.
One of them said, “Aubree, you heartless witch!”
Another said, “Give me back my loved one’s life!”
Someone else said, “Why don’t you just die already?”
4.50 PM
Chapter 377
Aubree’s face didn’t even twitch. She suddenly turned back to them with a smile. “I’m alive and kicking. Why should I be the one to die?
“Don’t go dumping all your dirt on me. Are you seriously telling me you don’t know how this person died?
“Even if you really don’t remember, that’s fine. I’ll help jog your memory in a bit.”
She was totally fearless, acting like she had nothing to worry about at all.
The reporters exchanged confused glances. They’d all assured Aubree was holding this press conference to make a public apology and do some damage control, but from the looks of it, that wasn’t the case at all.
The one who was yelling the loudest froze when Aubree locked eyes with her. She forgot to cry, tears brimming in her eyes, a flicker of guilt flashing across her face before she quickly put on that mask of resentment again.
She spat, “My brother was killed by you, you cold–hearted woman.
“If it weren’t for your platform, where you only care about making money and don’t give a damn about product quality, my brother wouldn’t have eaten that tainted stuff and lost his life.
We’re just poor folks, working our fingers to the bone, thinking maybe some kind–hearted soul would finally notice us. Who knew you were just a heartless woman, even eyeing the few pennies we have left in our pockets!”
