Chapter 114: I Made Asher Cry Again

Chapter 114: Chapter 114: I Made Asher Cry Again

I knew Mrs. Fletcher was planning to use the same method—public opinion—to ruin Asher.

Taking a deep breath, I shot to my feet, wanting to ask Asher about the animal abuse allegations.

But when I turned around, Asher was sitting on the stairs. He stared at me, his gaze intense. His eyes were still red-rimmed, and he looked as if he had been deeply wronged.

"Cece..." he called my name softly. "Don’t settle."

"This isn’t enough to completely destroy Julian Fletcher. He’ll retaliate. The worst that could happen is fifteen days in detention." While it would have a huge impact on the Fletcher Group, it wasn’t much of a punishment for Julian Fletcher himself.

"Lock him up for fifteen days..." Asher seemed to be suppressing his excitement.

In any case, as long as Julian Fletcher was suffering, he was happy.

"Do you think the Fletchers will just sit back and do nothing?" I sighed and sat down next to Asher. "The Fletchers are not to be trifled with. Mrs. Fle... Mrs. Fletcher won’t let this go. Fifteen days in detention is a small matter; the impact on the Fletcher Group is the big one."

Asher hugged his legs, resting his head on his knees. He looked as pitiful as a big, abandoned puppy.

I looked at Asher with a complicated expression and spoke again. "When you... have an episode, do you abuse animals?"

Asher froze for a moment, looking at me without a word.

I saw so many emotions in his eyes. Hurt? Disappointment? Or was it sadness...

’Is he blaming me for not believing him?’

"Then how do you explain this photo?" I showed Asher the picture Mrs. Fletcher had sent me.

Asher looked at the photo, then raised his head to look at me. "If I said it wasn’t me, would you believe me, Cece?"

But with the evidence laid out before me, it was hard to immediately and stubbornly believe Asher.

Because I knew he had trouble controlling himself when he had an episode.

"Asher... the Fletchers will use this to launch a smear campaign, to attack you. They’ll latch onto the fact that you have a mental illness and blow it out of proportion..." I lowered my head, not daring to imagine how cruel the coming public opinion storm would be to Asher.

Thankfully, he didn’t use his phone much. Otherwise, it would have been another kind of Hell.

Soon, Mrs. Fletcher sent another article. It was a post from last year. The title was about paying attention to stray animals, and the article below it described how animal abuse by homeless people was a common occurrence. The accompanying picture was of Asher holding a blood-soaked kitten.

The article was scathing. The person who wrote it must have been a journalist; they criticized homeless people like Asher, painting them as completely worthless.

It seemed the post had already gone viral back then, with over a million views.

I didn’t know how Asher had gotten through that time.

Public opinion can kill.

"Cece... You don’t believe me, do you?" Asher’s voice was hoarse, and he suddenly seemed to be losing control of his emotions.

He grabbed my wrist, as if desperately searching for trust in my eyes.

But he found none, and so he was disappointed.

He lowered his head, his eyes slowly turning red. Then he got up and left.

He was crying...

"Asher..." I instinctively reached for his hand. I just wanted to hear his explanation.

But he seemed very sensitive about the cat abuse incident.

"Asher?" He ignored me and ran back to his room.

It was the first time he’d had such a strong emotional reaction in front of me.

I rubbed my temples. ’Honestly, anyone would be swayed by the photo and the article. And since he isn’t explaining himself, it’s only natural for my mind to wander.’

I was just afraid... that the Fletchers’ smear campaign would hurt him again.

I searched online for last year’s "homeless teen abuses cat" incident, and sure enough... a lot of photos and videos popped up.

In one video, the person filming cornered Asher in an alley, throwing rocks and hitting him with a stick.

Asher was curled up in a corner, clutching something tightly. His forehead and body were filthy and covered in blood.

I knew Asher had suffered a lot when he was homeless, but I didn’t know he had gone through so much.

’He clearly could have fought back...’

"Why didn’t you fight back?" I muttered to myself, my voice a little hoarse.

I quickly scrolled through the online search results and found a dissenting voice—a video with very few views that tried to speak up for Asher.

In the video, the creator had followed and filmed Asher, explaining that he wasn’t abusing cats but was actually trying to save a stray. Because he wasn’t good at communicating with people, he was taken out of context by media personnel with ulterior motives.

The post didn’t get much traffic; its popularity had clearly been suppressed.

If it couldn’t gain traction, not as many people would see the truth.

That blogger only posted one installment and then stopped.

I frowned and ran to find Assistant Foster.

If the Fletcher Family was going to use Asher’s mental illness and the cat abuse incident to spin public opinion and suppress the negative press about the Fletcher Group, we had to be prepared.

"Assistant Foster, help me find this blogger, as fast as you can. I need to get the complete evidence he has." I prayed over and over, hoping this blogger still had the full evidence that could prove Asher didn’t abuse the cat.

Actually, thinking about it calmly, I knew this was probably fake. I had probably misunderstood Asher. The fact that those stray dogs were willing to listen to him and attack someone meant he was good to them; he couldn’t possibly be an animal abuser.

But I needed evidence now.

Assistant Foster had his people look into it. I sat on the sofa, endlessly scrolling through posts, hoping to find more evidence.

But the Fletchers worked fast. The buzz around Julian Fletcher’s intentional assault case was skyrocketing, but right behind it, a post about Lancaster Group’s CEO, Sebastian Lancaster, having once abused a cat started trending.

The clueless onlookers in the comments section replied in shock: "The homeless kid who abused a cat back then is actually the CEO of Lancaster Group?"

"Is Lancaster Group crazy? Hiring a homeless guy as their CEO?"

"Lancaster Group might as well make me CEO. Just go bankrupt already!"

Just as I expected. The public would rather see a high tower crumble, the sun fall from the sky into the mud, a pure white cloth stained with filth.

Their attacks and curses quickly began to affect the Lancaster Group.

The Lancaster Group’s PR team issued an urgent statement: "Lancaster Group will investigate this matter thoroughly and give everyone an explanation."

Immediately after, the Lancaster Group’s senior executives began bombarding the Lancaster Family’s phone lines.

Assistant Foster, with remarkable composure, answered one call after another, each one filled with angry curses.

I bit my nails, knowing tonight was destined to be a turbulent one. If the hype continued to build, Master Lancaster’s people would show up first thing in the morning to force Sebastian Lancaster to resign in disgrace, kick him out of the Lancaster Group, and make him hand over his shares.

BZZZ. My phone rang. It was Mrs. Fletcher.

"Miss Lynch, have you thought it over? Can we settle this privately now?" Mrs. Fletcher asked, certain that I would compromise.

I glanced upstairs and firmly refused. "Never."

’Then I’ll see this through to the end.’

Mrs. Fletcher didn’t say another word and hung up. She probably thought I was being childish.

But youth has its own resilience. "Young Madam, we’ve contacted the blogger. He says he has the full video. He’s also a content creator, so he can post it, but we need to give him traffic and support."

I nodded. "I agree. Let him be the first to post it. We’ll help him boost the post’s popularity."

Assistant Foster nodded.

Soon, I saw the full truth of the matter online.

Someone was abusing a cat. Asher fought them off and chased them away, then carefully scooped up the blood-soaked kitten and frantically ran to a pet hospital.

But several hospitals turned him away. He could only watch helplessly as the kitten died in his arms, leaving him kneeling on the ground—powerless, lost, scared, and heartbroken...

My heart clenched with pain. I left the matter with Assistant Foster and got up to knock on Asher’s door.

But he didn’t answer.

"Asher? Can I apologize to you...?" I coaxed softly from outside the door. "It was my fault for misunderstanding you, Asher?"

Suddenly, the door flew open. The tall figure of Asher stood in the dim room, his gaze bright and expectant as he looked at me. "Then Cece can sleep with me."

I opened my mouth, speechless. ’This guy...’

Asher’s eyes were red as he reached out to me. "Cece, hold me. It hurts..."

Just then, my phone rang. It was Zeke Shaw.

"Silvia! Julian Fletcher’s mother was in a car accident on her way to the police station! She’s still in emergency surgery. The person who hit her... says they were ordered to do it by Sebastian Lancaster."

I froze, my eyes instinctively flying to Asher.