Chapter 227

Brian's POV

"Ten minutes," Grandma finally said, "not a minute more."

I nodded, feeling a strange satisfaction welling up inside me. The persistent buzzing in my right ear and the burning sensation on my cheek were constant reminders of why I was doing this-Philip's slap hadn't just struck my face; it had torn apart the last threads of our blood connection.

Mitchell started the car, and we drove toward Philip's apartment. The street lights flickered outside the windowlike countless eyes watching every unspoken tragedy in this city.

"What are you thinking about, Brian?" Grandma's gentle voice interrupted my thoughts as her hand covered my small one.

"I'm wondering if Philip will try to make this go away with money,"I answered calmly. "He always believes money can soIve everything."

Surprise flashed in Grandma's eyes before she sighed, "Some things can't be bought, dear."

*Like Mom's love,like my lost childhood, like the damage to my ear right now.* I silently added but said nothing aloud.

Soon, Philip's apartment building came into view. Mitchell parked in a spot that offered a clear view of the entrance without being easily noticed.My heart rate increased, not from fear, but anticipation.

"They're here," Mitchell said quietly, nodding toward two police cars that had just pulled up to the curb.

Four officers walked toward the building entrance, with Officer Kate leading the way. I recognized her as the female officer who had told me at the hospital that I was "very brave." I watched as they were stopped by the doorman, and Officer Kate showed some kind of credentials.The doorman's expression transformed from confusion to shock.

"That doorman knows Philip," I said softly. "You can tell by his face."

Grandma squeezed my hand but remained silent.

Through the glass doors of the lobby, I could see the elevator indicator lights beginning to descend. My heartbeat counted dowvn with that small illuminated number. When the "1" lit up, I unconsciously held my breath.

A few minutes later, Philip appeared in the lobby, wearing his signature navy blue suit, his hair still impeccably styled. Only I knew how much selfishness and coldness lurked beneath that polished exterior.

"Philip Baker?" Though Officer Kate's voice was inaudible through the glass doors, I could tell from her posture that she was delivering some official statement.

Philip's reaction was exactly as I had anticipated-first surprise,then contempt, finally anger. His hands gesticulated in the air, his face flushing red, his lips mòving rapidly. Even from this distance, I could guess what he was saying:

"This is a ridiculous accusation!"

"I'm Philip Baker! CEO of Baker Investments!"

"Do you know who I am?"

Officer Kate remained calm, pointing to her partner's tablet-I guessed

they were showing the surveillance video that captured Philip hitting me.Philip's expression changed, from anger to shock, then to a kind of panic P'd never seen on his face before.

"That was just discipline!" I could make out his mouth forming the words.

"He's my son! I have the right-"

A male officer stepped forward, pulling out handcuffs. Philip took half a step back, his face filled with disbelief.

"You can't do this to me! I need to call my lawyer!"

Officer Kate said something, and another officer took out a phone,seemingly giving Philip the chance to contact his lawyer. Philip frantically pressed buttons on his phone, but judging by his expression, whoever he was calling wasn't answering.

"Get out of my way!" Suddenly, Philip tried to push past the officers and rush outside, but he was quickly subdued. The handcuffs clicked shut, the cold metal reflecting the desperation on Philip's face.

As they led him toward the police car, Philip's gaze suddenly met mine. In that brief moment, I watched his expression shift from recognition to shock to fury. He seemed about to say something, his lips trembling,but I didn't flinch or look away. Instead, I calmly held his gaze, letting him see that I was no longer afraid.

A passerby took out a phone and began recording the scene. Several others joined in, holding up their phones, documenting this Wall Street elite's moment of disgrace. Philip noticed these phones, his face turning pale as he turned away, as if hoping to avoid the cameras. Too late.

Perfect. Public humiliation would ensure Philip couldn't simply buy his

way out of this one.

"Satisfied now?" Grandma asked quietly. "Can we go home?"

I nodded. but my plan was far from complete. The 911 call was just the first step.

On the way home. I checked my phone for messages. As expected, Philip's business competitor had already replied to the text I'd sent from the hospital:

"Got your message.Need anything else to proceed?"

I typed carefully: "Philip Baker is indeed my biological father,but he was willing to hurt me for his new girlfriend. Feel free to use this information however you want."

The response came almost immediately: "He's your biological father and did this to you? Are you sure you want to go through with this? Once this goes public, there's no turning back."

I paused for a moment. This person was offering me a chance to back out,an opportunity to withdraw my plan for revenge. Was it because I was only five years old? Adults always underestimate children's determination.

I thought about the countless times Philip had chosen to ignore me for Sarah, the contemptuous looks he gave me, his unhesitating violence, and the stinging on my cheek and the buzzing in my ear.

"Why should I hesitate?" I replied. "He chose his girlfriend over mne.He hit me hard enough to damage my eardrum. What kind of father does that?"

There was a pause before the next message appeared: "I understand.Just

wait and see. I'll handle everything."

I felt the corners of my mouth turning up slightly. "Thank you."

Mitchell glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Everything okay?"

"It will be," I answered, putting my phone away. "Soon."

Back home, despite being exhausted, I couldn't sleep. Adrenaline was still flowing through my body, and my brain refused to shut down. Grandma applied a cold compress to my cheek and gave me pain medication, her every movement gentle and meticulous, reminding me of Mom. After she and Mitchell left, I pulled my tablet from under my pillow and began monitoring social media.

News about Philip's arrest had already started spreading online. The person who recorded the video had obviously wasted no time. Headlines like "Breaking: Investment Firm CEO Philip Baker Arrested for Domestic Violence Against Son" were appearing on multiple financial news websites.One headline after another emerged, each more sensational than the last.The video was being shared frantically, with comment sections filled with condemnation of Philip.

I clicked on one video that clearly captured Philip's shocked expression as he was handcuffed, as well as his pathetic attempt to avoid the cameras.The caption read: "Wall Street Elite's Perfect Image Crumbles in an Instant.

0

As the night deepened, the accusations became more detailed. Medical reports had been leaked, specifying my injuries: damaged eardrum, facial contusion, possible psychological trauma. The public was outraged.

"Philip Baker Physically Attacks His 5-Year-Old Son, Causing Serious

Injury!"

"Baker Investments CEO Assaults Child After Girlfriend Sarah Johnson Falsely Claims Boy Convinced Her to Terminate Pregnancy"

"Video Evidence Shows Baker Striking Child with Enough Force to Knock Him to the Floor-Medical Reports Confirm Hearing Damage"

The comment sections were filled with indignant voices:

"What kind of monster hits a 5-year-old child?"

"Baker abandoned his son months ago, hasn't paid child support, and now this?Disgusting!"

"He gives all his money to his mistress while his own child suffers? I'm pulling all investments from Baker's company first thing tomorrow!"

Someone had even dug up financial records showing that Philip had stopped paying child support months ago,choosing instead to spend money on Sarah. The stark contrast between his treatment of me versus Sarah elicited precisely the reaction I had anticipated-unmitigated condemnation.

Mitchell texted me: "Are you seeing this? They're crucifying him!"

I replied: "Yes. He deserves it."

"He certainly does," Mitchell agreed. "But are you okay? This is drawing a lot of attention."

"I'm fine. My face hurts, but watching Philip's reputationcrumble makes it hurt less."

I could almost feel Mitchell's smile through the text. "Get some sleep, kid.

Tomorrow will be even more interesting."