True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules

It had been years and her daughter–in–law hadn’t been able to conceive. She had almost made a sport out of visiting every church in the area, praying for a miracle. Whenever she had a spare moment, she’d whisper a hopeful word to the family’s old Bible, worn and thumbed from generations of faith.

It was common practice in the village, though most folks didn’t take it all too seriously. So, when a baby finally arrived, The woman just figured her sincere prayers had done the trick, never really pondering which saint might have interceded on her behalf. The thought of a promise to fulfill didn’t even cross her mind.

Now she didn’t even know where to begin to give thanks.

Winnie wasn’t much for the old ways either. The power of the divine seemed a distant. notion, with truly holy places becoming rarer by the day.

Yet, places of worship that drew steady congregations, even without celestial beings, seemed to gather a bit of that collective faith.

Those who had their prayers answered were just lucky enough to have brushed against that gathered belief.

And if she benefited from the faith of others, it was only right to give back in kind.

That was what Winnie believed. Her thoughts drifted as she watched the woman’s baby cry in her arms. Winnie reached out and gently caressed the baby’s cheek, saying,

“If you’re not sure who to thank, just be grateful to them all. Don’t see it as a hassle. Taking him to a few different churches can only bless him with more good fortune.”

To everyone’s amazement, the wailing child quieted under Winnie’s gentle touch. His tear–stained eyes, clear as washed grapes, looked up at her, and a smile broke through

his tears.

Winnie’s hand paused for a moment, her eyes softening as she gazed at the

face.

pure

little

Her simple act of kindness had half the village wanting to bring their children to her for a blessing. When the chief noticed the commotion, it took him and the crew from the local community channel to rescue her from the crowd.

With things settling down at Cloverfield Cottage, Bagot chose a picturesque spot for the guests to start a live–streaming session a bit earlier than planned.

The guests were now well–versed in these sessions, and Gentry took the reins without hesitation.

Joseph, still smarting from a previous spat, kept his distance from Winnie and Sean all afternoon.

10:44

His fans, watching the livestream, were convinced Joseph had been wronged and unleashed a barrage of insults at Winnie and Sean.

Bagot had moderators on standby, but Joseph’s fans were relentless. As one was banned, another would take their place.

Joseph felt a guilty pleasure in the chaos, yet maintained a troubled facade on camera, urging his fans,

“My lovely fans, I know you’re upset on my behalf, and I appreciate it, but we’re live right now. Let’s not give the crew a hard time. As I said before, it was all a misunderstanding, and it’s not Winnie Henderson or young Sean’s fault. Please, let’s stop fighting.”

Joseph’s pleas were earnest, but even as he called it a misunderstanding, he subtly reminded everyone of his perceived victimhood. He knew it would only make his fans more sympathetic.

And so, the barrage in the chat shifted from insults to demands.

“We’ll stop the hate, but Winnie must apologize on air.”

“Yes. Apologize.”

“Winnie, say you’re sorry to Joseph.”

The chat was flooded with demands for Winnie’s apology, and other viewers were annoyed to the point of madness. Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Some reality show fans were waiting for their chance to participate, and Joseph’s overzealous supporters were ruining it for everyone.

The atmosphere was tense among the guests, and Bagot was fuming.

He could see Joseph was fanning the flames, expecting Winnie to apologize.

As if she would.

Winnie herself was the picture of calm, casually scanning the stream of comments without a word, ignoring Joseph beside her.

Just as Bagot contemplated halting the session, a wave of new viewers crashed into the

stream.

“Joseph’s fans, stop embarrassing yourselves and check Twitter for the latest trending topics.”

“Demanding apologies from Winnie? Get real. Look at what your idol’s done.”

“I knew this drama was coming. I’m here for the sixth guest seat change.”

“Just came from Twitter, and I’m livid. What kind of person is Joseph?.”

The chat was turning against Joseph, and even his most fervent supporters began to

10:44

realize something was amiss, hastily exiting the stream to catch up on the scandal

Bagot got the news immediately, while the other guests, still live, looked on in confusion. Candace reacted first, pulling out her phone to check Twitter.

Her reaction was an instant shock.

The others, forgetting they were live, scrambled for their phones, Joseph panicked, dropped his facade, and searched frantically,

The top trending topic was a bombshell: an exposé accusing Joseph of harassment by Hanson, a young actor who had played his brother in the once–popular show “Breeze of Youth.”

Hanson, now seventeen and on the cusp of adulthood, had found the courage to speak out about the past.

His opening line was chilling,

“I wanted to bury the past because it still disgusts me to think about it. But seeing him on the show, getting close to other young boys, and then using his fame and fans to slander and bully after harassment. I couldn’t stay silent, I finally came to realize that as his star rose within the industry, so too did his influence. He began to wield a kind of power that could make or break the careers of those countless hopefuls, those fresh–faced actors who were invisible to the big leagues. Maybe there were others like me, compelled into silence by his clout, enduring his harassment and aggression, too scared to raise their voices. But I decided it was time to take a stand.”