Chapter 91
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
I contacted the firm’s PR team and scheduled a press conference.
If I was going to fight, I was going to fight on my terms.
At the press conference, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg for sympathy.
I simply, calmly, laid out everything that had happened to me before.
I presented my medical records-a thick stack of them. Every broken bone. Every injury. All documented.
I brought in the retired detective who’d handled my trafficking case. He agreed to testify.
And I brought in Callahan Pierce.
He was now the CEO of a publicly traded company.
When I’d called him a few days earlier, he’d been silent for a long time.
“I know what I did to you was wrong,” he’d said finally. “Breaking your legs. I know p>
“But when I saw your mother… I saw my own childhood. My parents used me the same way-as a punching bag, a tool. When I saw her shove you out there, then get on her knees and beg me to hurt you instead of her… I snapped p>
“I’ve lived with that guilt ever since. Riley, I’m sorry p>
I accepted his apology. And I asked him to testify.
On the day of the press conference, he sent his chief legal counsel, who confirmed the incident and explained Callahan’s actions in context.
The lawyer said: “Mr. Pierce deeply regrets his actions that day. However, he wants to emphasize that what he did was a response to witnessing an act of horrific child abuse. He is willing to accept any legal consequences and offers Riley Nguyen his sincerest apology p>
Finally, I played an audio recording.
It was from outside my office building-my biological mother admitting, in her own words, that she’d run scams, gone to prison, and was now demanding money from me.
Public opinion flipped overnight.
Twitter exploded with #JusticeForRiley and #CancelThat Monster trending nationwide.
The people who’d been trashing me online turned on her like wolves.
“This woman doesn’t deserve to be called a mother p>
“Ten years wasn’t long enough p>
“Riley Nguyen is a hero for surviving this p>
My biological mother became a pariah. Her landlord kicked her out. Not a single relative would take her in.
She came back to find me-this time outside my apartment building.
She was on her knees, clutching my legs, sobbing.
19:50
You Traded Our Son for Her? Your ‘Happy’ Ending Just Crashed, Asshole!
69.8%
“Riley, I was wrong! I’m so sorry! Please forgive me! I’m begging you p>
She started slamming her forehead into the pavement, over and over, until blood ran down her face.
Ten years ago, I might have felt sorry for her.
Now, I just felt disgusted.
“Your apology is too late p>
I pulled my leg free.
“The only mother I have is waiting for me inside p>
I turned around. Clara and Miles were standing a few feet behind me.
Clara stepped forward and put herself between me and that woman.
She pointed a finger right in her face.
“You MONSTER. You have some nerve showing your face here. Riley is MY daughter now. You have NO claim to her. If you ever come near her again, I swear to God I’ll make you regret it p>
I’d never seen Clara so fierce.
The woman stumbled backward, genuinely scared.
She stared at the three of us-our little family-and her eyes filled with jealousy and venom.
Of course, she wasn’t going to let it go.
She filed a lawsuit against me, demanding that I fulfill my legal obligation to support her as her child.
She probably thought blood relation was her last trump card.
In court, her court-appointed attorney gave this whole impassioned speech about how she’d carried me for nine months, raised me through hardship.
She sat in the plaintiff’s chair, sobbing like she was the victim of some great injustice.
When it was my turn to testify, I didn’t say a word.
I just had my lawyer present the evidence. All of it.
Medical records. Police reports.
The press conference footage.
The public statement from Callahan Pierce’s company.
Testimonies from neighbors who’d lived in our apartment complex back then.
The evidence was airtight.
The judge’s expression grew darker with every document.
Chapter 7
Finally, my lawyer turned to her.
“Monica Anson, you claim you love your daughter. So tell me-do you remember what color shirt she was wearing the day you sold her to a
human trafficker p>
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Mark Twain