Chapter 5

His friends got excited like they were high on drugs.

They all pulled out their phones and aimed them at me in high definition livestreams.

They enthusiastically discussed livestream titles:

"How about 'Mr. Whitmore's Wife-Taming Chronicle'?"

"What about 'Mrs. Whitmore Humiliates Servant and Gets Taught a Lesson'?"

"How about 'Mrs. Whitmore Searches for Bracelet in 100 Tons of Garbage'? I think that one's good!"

Blake pretended to think and joined the heated discussion:

"The last one—'Mrs. Whitmore Searches for Bracelet in 100 Tons of Garbage.' Use that title."

He deliberately paused, looking at me like a rebellious student who'd driven the principal to fury!

Once the livestream started with Mrs. Whitmore's name attached, tens of thousands of viewers instantly flooded each person's stream, with numbers continuously rising.

They deliberately stirred things up in the livestream:

"Hello everyone, good evening. We're bringing you a live broadcast of Mrs. Whitmore personally searching for a bracelet in 100 tons of garbage."

"What you're seeing is the usually dignified Mrs. Whitmore. She humiliated the household housekeeper and caused the loss of the only keepsake the housekeeper's mother left behind. Now Mr. Whitmore is making her personally find the housekeeper's mother's keepsake."

They deliberately read the harshest livestream comments aloud to me:

"Mr. Whitmore is doing the right thing! People who look down on others deserve this treatment!"

"Lauren isn't some heiress herself. What right does she have to humiliate us ordinary people!"

"Look how pathetic she is—I'd love to go there in person and slap her a few times!"

I was numb from the cold, using all my strength to struggle out of the ice water and stumble toward the distant exit.

The helicopters' blinding searchlights above shone directly into my eyes.

Seeing I still wouldn't submit to him, Blake played his final card:

"Lauren, I'm asking you one last time—will you search for Shanna's mother's keepsake or not? Or would you rather have your mother's ashes scattered in the garbage just to maintain your pride?!"

My heart lurched painfully. I steadied my weakening body and looked up at Blake.

He held my mother's urn in his hands, coldly staring into my eyes as he opened the lid. The urn tilted, and I watched as my mother's ashes were about to spill out.

I gave in, screaming at him through my tears:

"I'll search! I'll search! Blake Whitmore, we were husband and wife—I'm begging you not to be so heartless."

I was truly afraid he'd scatter my mother's ashes. I immediately began pawing through the foul garbage heap, digging while pleading with him:

"I'm searching right now. Please put my mother's urn away safely. I'm begging you."

Shanna maliciously fanned the flames again: "Mrs. Whitmore, why do this to yourself? You said it yourself—you were husband and wife. But why did you try to blow up Mr. Whitmore's helicopter earlier? You really hurt his feelings."

I ignored her and just kept digging through the garbage.

Shanna continued stirring trouble: "Mr. Whitmore, the way Mrs. Whitmore is just randomly digging around, this will take forever. If she's not going to search sincerely, forget it—let me go down and search instead."

Blake, provoked by her words, lost all patience. He tilted the urn downward and coldly threatened me:

"Lauren, I don't have time to waste on you. I'm setting a timer now. If you don't find it within half an hour, your mother's ashes will be scattered like dust across this garbage heap."

I broke down. One hundred tons of garbage—half an hour was impossible.

But no matter how much I begged, he remained unmoved, constantly reminding me of the time.

I could only pray for luck, but after using all my strength to dig through garbage for half an hour, I still hadn't found Shanna's mother's keepsake.

Just as I was about to beg Blake again, I watched him with his cold, heartless expression tip my mother's urn and pour out the ashes.

I watched my mother's ashes scatter like dust in the air, falling downward. I completely shattered inside, desperately running over with outstretched hands: "No!"

Above me came their roaring mocking laughter. Suddenly the sound of hundreds of aircraft approached from all directions, drowning out their derisive laughter.

These aircraft surrounded Blake's helicopter. I finally heard a reassuring voice:

"Which bastard is bullying Lauren? Take him down!"