Chapter 2
As the security guards dragged the three guys out, they were still mouthing off and shouting insults.
Ethan pointed right at my face, calling me totally heartless, swearing that I'd end up with nothing.
Nathan glared at me, saying I was acting like a spoiled brat and threatening to have my dad teach me a lesson.
Miles yelled that he'd expose all my "evil deeds" and get his fans to tear me apart online.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching them get swarmed by reporters downstairs, looking absolutely pathetic. Honestly, I'd never felt so damn satisfied.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Ethan texted me.
Ethan: [Camila, don't be so ruthless.]
[Rachel's finger was actually hurt. It was an emergency. We were worried she'd get tetanus, so we rushed over. Seriously, can't you have a little empathy?]
Then came a photo.
In it, Rachel was sprawled out in a first-class seat, her hand buried under layers of gauze, eyes brimming with tears, looking like the world's saddest princess.
The three guys were hovering around her, faces full of concern.
I zoomed in for a closer look.
With all that gauze, I'd think she'd had her hand amputated or something.
Empathy? I'd have lost it ages ago.
I thought for a moment, then fired off a careless reply.
[Oh, since it's really that urgent, and you're so worried that she'd have tetanus, maybe it's some deadly, highly contagious foreign virus. Guess I'll do you a favor and help you out!]
After I sent the message, I called up the city's CDC and customs quarantine without missing a beat.
I said, "Hi, I'd like to report something with my real name.
"My private jet just landed from Malvies. Looks like one passenger's got a nasty infectious disease and a pretty serious open wound.
"Yeah, and there are three others on board who've been in close contact with her.
"The plane didn't bother with any health declaration and tried to slip through customs without telling anyone.
"For the safety of everyone in the city, please make sure to handle this with the utmost seriousness."
After hanging up, I sent Ethan one last message.
[Since you're acting like it's such a life-or-death emergency, I've already called in the most professional medical isolation team for your own safety.]
[Don't mention it. Just my last bit of mercy as your ex-partner.]
Half an hour later, the internet blew up with the hashtags: [Miles Scott and the other two detained at the airport], [Suspected foreign virus], and [Entire private jet forcibly disinfected].
On camera, Rachel was dragged onto a negative-pressure ambulance by a team in full hazmat suits.
She looked absolutely terrified, her face pale as a ghost, and in her panic, the carefully wrapped bandages on her finger unraveled.
Underneath? Just a tiny scratch, barely an inch long. Honestly, it was already scabbed over.
The quarantine staff just stared for a moment, then their faces twisted in disbelief and annoyance.
"This is the so-called 'highly infectious wound' you guys were freaking out about?" one of them shot back.
"And this is the 'deadly tetanus' that was supposed to kill someone on the spot?" another added, full of sarcasm.
Ethan, Nathan, and Miles got shoved into a separate isolation van, with no chance to protest.
They were scrambling to explain, swearing it was just a tiny cut, and they only skipped the health forms because they were in a rush.
But in front of those strict quarantine officers, no matter what they said, it just sounded like lame excuses.
"You failed to declare your health status as required, which means you're suspected of breaking quarantine laws. We'll be taking you in for isolation and observation. After that, you'll be handed over to the police," one of the officers said coldly.
Watching them get dragged away on the live stream, I couldn't help but laugh.
I told them I never messed around.
If they wanted to make it sound like the end of the world, then I'd treat it like the end of the world.
Hope them enjoy my little gift.