The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy! novel Chapter 367

Chapter 367: She should go. Lola... must go.

[Young Residence]

DING!

DING!

Melissa covered her ears, trying not to hear the endless calls and messages bombarding her phone. She hadn’t even gotten up from bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket, but no matter what, her phone sounded louder than usual.

"Ugh!" she groaned, yanking the blanket down and glaring at the device. It vibrated again on the bedside table, and when she reached for it to turn it off, the screen lit up with Manager Kang’s name flashing across it.

Her teeth ground together, her swollen eyes burning with fury. When the call finally stopped, her voicemail icon appeared. She played it, and his tired voice filled the silence.

"Melissa, you need to pick up the phone. The higher-ups are calling for you and want to talk. I’ll be there later once I drop off Simon at the set, but... you really need to come, Melissa. We have to fix this together."

She bit her lower lip hard, listening until the message ended.

If the higher-ups were calling her, it could only mean one thing. She didn’t even have to show up to know what they’d say.

"Go there for what?" she scoffed, tossing her phone down. "To get humiliated?"

She clicked her tongue, ready to power it off, but her muscle memory betrayed her. Her thumb slid to her inbox. One glance, and her breath hitched. Dozens of unread emails filled her screen. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"What?" she whispered. Her hand trembled as she scrolled through them.

Termination. Contract revocation. Sponsorship withdrawals.

Every brand she’d worked with had cut ties with her overnight. Even her upcoming projects—the ones she’d proudly announced—had backed out. Then came an email from Angel’s Revenge production. They told her not to come to the set until further notice.

The series hadn’t released an official statement yet, but she already knew where this was heading.

"No..." she breathed, her pale complexion turning ghostly. "No, no, no."

In a panic, she switched to her messages. What awaited her was more devastation. Group chats had kicked her out—or worse, kept her in so she could watch them talk about her. Some of her so-called friends copied and pasted the same cold message from their brands: We regret to inform you...

Reporters she knew messaged too, some pretending to check on her but clearly fishing for a quote or "exclusive."

Her mind went blank. Finally, she opened social media.

Her name was trending, but not for her beauty, fame, or "perfect" engagement. Every headline mocked her. The engagement of the century had become the farce of the decade.

And the comments? They were merciless.

[She’s not even pretty. Seriously! She’s just another nepo baby who gets what she wants, but her face isn’t making it. How could she become a celebrity with that face? There were so many good-looking and more talented than her!]

[What a gold digger. I thought gold diggers were only for those who had nothing and wanted everything, but I guess even those with money wanted more. She’s greedy. She and her family.]

[Fun fact: the Young family isn’t the real rich people, but the Alberts. AKA, Melissa’s father’s first wife. How could people forget that she’s the daughter of a mistress? Second wife? Duh? She’s clearly the product of infidelity.]

[So it’s true she stole her sister’s life? There’s nothing good about being the daughter of a mistress.]

[The Lancaster family dodged a bullet. Imagine if this came out after they were married? No wonder NL Group’s stocks are tanking.]

[Everyone, comment on all her brand partners! Boycott any company that keeps her!]

The last post was spreading like wildfire. A link followed it. It was an online petition to "banish" her from the entertainment industry. It already had a hundred thousand signatures in under an hour.

Melissa’s phone slipped from her hands, landing on her lap. Her teary eyes stayed fixed on the glowing screen as another tear fell.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

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