CH.57

The luxurious black sedan carrying Serena rolled to a smooth stop in front of the imposing wrought-iron gates of the sprawling presidential villa estate.

A second gunmetal gray SUV filled with her personal security detail pulled up right behind, the heavily-tinted windows giving no hint of the armed men within.

Serena peered out through the rear passenger window, eyeing the security keypad with an unreadable frown creasing her brow.

She punched in her entry code, half expecting the numbers to glow green. However, the screen flashed an unmistakable error message.

"Nothing unexpected..." Serena muttered under her breath, jabbing at the buttons again with more insistent force. Still nothing but that mocking red "ERROR" displayed on the tiny screen as though the system were deliberately taunting her.

A shrill alarm began blaring from somewhere within the compound's depths on the third futile attempt.

Within seconds, a small army of men in crisp black suits and mirrored sunglasses came pouring out of the villa like ants from a kicked anthill. They fanned out in a wide perimeter, semi-automatic weapons gripped at the ready as they swiftly surrounded Serena's car and that of her bodyguards.

"You have got to be kidding me," Serena said through gritted teeth as she threw open the rear door and stepped out with all the regal grace and poise she could muster.

She turned to face the armed men whose guns were now trained on her as if she were some deadly threat brazenly trespassing on private ground.

The audacity of it all made her jawline harden with indignant rage.

Serena's own bodyguards reacted instantly at the first sign of potential danger. Their hands flew to the holsters at their hips as they whipped out their own firearms and formed a protective semi-circle around their lady boss.

"Stand down, ma'am. You are trespassing on private property. Leave the premises immediately or we will be forced to open fire." One of the men in black barked in a detached tone while his finger caressed the trigger with a gentle touch.

Serena chuckled in disbelief at the blatant threat and hostile treatment. This was once her home… a place she shared good memories with her father. Although this may be the presidential villa, her family owned this property. When her late father was chosen to be the next president, he had declined to move into the house that was offered to all heads of state. She grew up in this place. And now she was being forcibly ejected at gunpoint like some common criminal or terrorist?

"You dare deny me entry into my own father's home?" Serena shouted, the words ringing out with all the entitlement and indignation of someone used to having their every command obeyed without question.

She took an inadvertent step forward, only to be brought up short by the unmistakable sound of a dozen guns being cocked in eerie synchronicity.

Serena froze, her chest heaving with a potent mix of fury and incredulity as the two armed camps faced off in an increasingly volatile standoff.

The ruckus had already begun drawing a crowd of gawkers and paparazzi like sharks sensing blood in the water.

Shouts and murmurs rippled through the gathered throngs as camera shutters began clicking in a frenzied staccato, the air filling with the bright pops and flashes as the scene was captured from every possible angle.

The flashes bombarded her from every angle, blinding bright lights in a suffocating sea of microphones and shouting voices closing in like a pack of hungry wolves.

"Serena! Serena! What do you have to say about the leaked sex tape?"

Cameras thrust forward, lenses gaping like ravenous maws as the paparazzi swarmed around Serena. She gritted her teeth, keeping her head high and pace steady, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction as the vultures encircled their prey.

"Slut! Whore! How could you do something like that on camera?"

The cruel insults sliced through the cacophony, each one like a fresh wound reopening the raw humiliation. Anger and shame roiled in the pit of Serena's stomach, but she forced herself to meet their leering gazes with an icy, impassive stare. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Did you leak the video yourself for publicity, you desperate has-been?"

She curled her hands into white-knuckled fists inside the pockets of her beige trench coat, perfectly manicured nails digging crescent moons into her palms. Just keep walking, she willed herself. Don't react, don't give them anything.

"Are you going to press charges against the person who leaked it?"

A bead of nervous sweat trickled down her spine as another crude jeer lashed out from the rabid pack.

"No way that's her first sex tape! The slut's probably made a whole collection!"

Serena felt her iron control slipping precariously, the string of her composure fraying with each blistering, misogynistic remark. How dare they shame and degrade her for being the victim? White-hot fury blazed in her chest, screaming to be unleashed like a caged animal.

A burly man in a grease-stained PRESS pass shoved his camera right in her face, the lens just inches from her nose as spittle flew from his twisted sneer.

"Hey slut, give us a smile for the cameras! You seemed to really enjoy yourself in that video, you filthy whore!"

That snapped it. Something primal roared to life in Serena's eyes as she wheeled on the vile paparazzo, all her pent-up rage and indignation erupting in an incandescent blaze.

"Get that fucking camera out of my face before I shove it up your ass, you miserable piece of shit!" she snarled, sounding more animal than human as she took a menacing step towards the startled man.

The stunned silence lasted only a beat before the frenzy exploded again with jeers, flashing bulbs, and a thunderous cacophony of shouted questions and insults. Serena's head swiveled from side to side, her chest heaving with each ragged breath as she struggled to maintain what little composure she had left.

"That's right, show us your true colors, you depraved bitch!"

"Going to cry now, princess? Or just release another homemade p**n to stay relevant?"

"Does your mother know what a whore you are? She must be rolling in her grave."

The hateful words washed over Serena in an unending torrent, each one chipping away at her restraint until she could feel it crumbling. Her eyes burned with unshed tears of rage and mortification as the crowd pressed in, pawing at her with their cameras and microphones like jackals tearing at a fresh kill.

This was too much, even for someone as hardened to public scrutiny as Serena. She was only human, her tolerance for cruelty and degradation rapidly eroding under the relentless onslaught. If she didn't escape this feeding frenzy soon, she knew she would well and truly snap.

One of Serena's towering bodyguards, a hulking slab of muscle named Dimitri, frowned as the reporters were still hurling hateful words at the madam. His cold eyes swept over the jeering crowd with lips pressed into a flat line of disapproval.

These vultures clearly had no intention of letting up their relentless torment.

Serena had proven herself to be extraordinarily strong-willed in the face of such heinous degradation, but even she had her limit.

Dimitri knew that if this continued unchecked, she ran the very real risk of snapping completely - a scenario that could have catastrophic consequences.

He could only imagine how much more...permanent their masters' solution to this situation would be. The cruel, vindictive Don who ruled with iron fist would likely have simply had the entire crowd executed on the spot. But the master was evidently indisposed at the moment, leaving Dimitri to make the hard choices.

His jaw clenched as he watched another reporter try to shove their microphone into Serena's face. Enough was enough - it was time for him to intervene before one of them did something unforgivable.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Dimitri retrieved his encrypted smartphone and rapidly typed out a coded message yet gain, sending it off to their organization's extensive network of operatives embedded throughout society's most powerful institutions.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds before his phone buzzed. (The matter is being dealt with right away. Apologies for the slight delay) The message read.

Almost immediately, the raucous reporters surrounding them began frowning in confusion as their own phones started ringing and buzzing with a flurry of notifications from their superiors.

They checked their messages, only to be met with the shocking news that they had all been summarily fired from their jobs at their respective media outlets.