Chapter 16 - The Empire Strikes Back
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Three months after my television interview aired, the Whitmore empire struck back. Or rather, Evelyn did.
Furious that my public reinvention was making her son look weak, Evelyn took matters into her own manicured hands. During a highly publicized charity gala at the Plaza Hotel, she intentionally spoke loudly enough for two society columnists to hear her.
By the next morning, the gossip blogs were on fire.
Evelyn’s leaked narrative was vicious: She claimed I had completely fabricated the story of the miscarriage. She told the press that I was a barren, money-hungry gold digger who had emotionally blackmailed Grant during his vulnerable state, threatening to destroy the company unless he paid me a fifty-million-dollar ransom.
My attorney, Daniel Brooks, called me immediately.
“We sue her for defamation,” Daniel urged, his voice tight with anger. “We have the medical records, Claire. We can destroy her.”
I stood by the massive windows of my San Diego office, watching the sailboats drift across the harbor.
“No,” I said firmly.
“Claire, she is dragging your name through the mud on a national scale!”
“Let her talk, Daniel. I have the signed, ironclad agreement. The money is legally mine, and my business is booming. I am not going to drag my medical trauma into a courtroom just to give Evelyn the theatrical mud-fight she desperately wants. Reality doesn't need a PR campaign.”
But while I was willing to let it go, someone else wasn't.
That Friday was the annual Whitmore Luxe shareholder meeting. Hundreds of investors, board members, and financial journalists packed into a massive ballroom in Manhattan.
Grant stood behind the glass podium, reading off quarterly earnings. Evelyn sat proudly in the front row, wearing her signature pearls, fully expecting her son to protect the family name as he always had.
During the Q&A session, a reporter from the Wall Street Journal stood up.
“Mr. Whitmore, given the recent rumors circulated by your mother, can you confirm if corporate funds were extorted for your ex-wife's fifty-million-dollar settlement?”
The entire ballroom went dead silent. Flashbulbs went off. Evelyn sat up straighter, a smug smile on her face.
Grant gripped the edges of the podium. He looked down at his mother, then directly into the swarm of cameras.
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“Claire Bennett did not extort a single dime from me,” Grant’s voice boomed through the speakers.
Evelyn’s smile vanished.
