You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 76

"Are you that desperate for a man? You're completely shameless. I actually supported you before, I must have been blind."

"Throwing herself at him like that. Anyone who stans her is asking for bad luck. She must be desperate to marry rich."

The comments were incredibly vile.

Some users even started photoshopping her face onto explicit images, turning her comment section into an absolute nightmare.

Others took the opportunity to dig up her background:

"Sylvia's family is full of deadbeats who owe a ton of money. She only paid off her debts after the Wyatt heir made her his sugar baby. She comes from trash. The Wyatt heir and Reina are childhood sweethearts. The name of his nightclub, The Reign, is literally named after her.

And that whole body double drama wasn't what it looked like. Sylvia agreed to let the production team use it, but then she didn't get paid enough, so she bit the hand that fed her. She's completely money-hungry. No production crew will ever dare hire her now. Any director looking at her better watch their back."

A mix of half-truths and blatant lies flooded the internet, and "Sylvia Harlow get out of the industry" quickly shot to the number one trending spot.

"How did someone like her even get famous? Did she sleep her way to the top?"

"Boycott The Mist! Unless they cut her from the show, I'm never watching it!"

"Reina is the real victim here. Sylvia framed her production crew and then seduced her fiancé."

"Finally, people are seeing through her act. I always hated her. She needs to be blacklisted entirely."

...

The backlash snowballed uncontrollably.

Her agency tried to launch a PR campaign to fight the trolls, but it was useless.

Sylvia's social media had been completely overrun by toxic hate.

A bone-deep chill washed over her. This was a targeted hit meant to destroy her career and rip out her foundation. Right now, her public image was a million times worse than Reina's had ever been.

Once you were labeled a homewrecker on the internet, you were essentially public enemy number one.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

As Sylvia was leaving a brand event and heading toward her van, a crazed fan sprinted toward her, screaming, "Go to hell, Sylvia!"

The fan hurled a bottle of liquid at her. A security guard reacted instantly, blocking the attack and knocking the bottle off course. The liquid splashed onto a metal railing, producing a terrifying, sizzling hiss.

It was sulfuric acid.

By the time Sylvia got into the van, her legs were shaking. Penelope, sitting beside her, said grimly, "Cancel all your events for now. You need to lay low."

Ashton clearly couldn't care less. His tone was dripping with arrogance:

"You're the one who wanted to be famous. You want the spotlight, but you can't even handle a little heat?"

Tears instantly flooded Sylvia's eyes. Across the phone line, he couldn't see her. She bit down hard on her lip, desperately trying to suppress her emotions.

"I understand."

She hung up the phone.

She was terrified that if she said one more word, she would break down sobbing.

Ashton refused to help her.

When Rebecca or Reina were in trouble, he moved mountains for them.

But now, when all she needed was a simple clarification, he wouldn't even lift a finger.

It was simply because he didn't care.

So what if the whole world branded her a homewrecker? It meant absolutely nothing to him.