Reborn With a Money-Making System: Ruined Actress to Nation's Treasure-Chapter 82: The Past I Can’t Bury

He paused for a moment before continuing, "The problem is ... sometimes it’s not easy to get someone like Mrs. Davenport to actually show up in court."

It would be illegal for a defendant to skip a hearing and ignore court summons three times.

But people like Addison—those with money and strong legal backing—always find a way to slip through the cracks. She’d probably pull the "health issue" card to avoid showing up.

Whether in dramas or real life, I’ve seen that most powerful people use illness as an excuse to dodge court.

If Addison played that card, I hoped she’d be so gravely ill she’d never recover.

Ethan continued, "Sometimes they bribe doctors, or they have lawyers muddle the paperwork. It’s wrong, but if it looks convincing enough, it becomes almost impossible to beat."

Lando leaned forward. "We don’t need to trade blows in the dirt. There are cleaner ways," he said. "Mr. Rowell, you can file a motion to compel her attendance."

He added, "If she keeps dodging, the court can hold her in contempt, and if she suddenly claims she’s seriously ill, we’ll request an independent medical evaluation. The court can force it if needed."

Ethan nodded thoughtfully. "That’s the best route. Once the motion is approved, the pressure shifts to her. Most of these people crumble when they realize their usual tricks don’t work anymore."

Lando was the one leading most of the discussion with Ethan instead of me, and honestly, that made me feel relieved. Having him on my side was like having a wall to lean on when the ground kept shaking.

After all, I wasn’t a legal expert, so there wasn’t much I could contribute beyond listening and trying not to look too nervous.

"Ms. Orszebet," Ethan said, turning his attention to me, "once I finish the paperwork, I’ll file the lawsuit immediately, probably within the next two days."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "However, the process of setting the first hearing date could take up to three weeks. In the meantime, I strongly advise you not to have any contact with your family."

He leaned back slightly, his expression serious. "We have to make sure they don’t find out we’re filing this case. If they do, they might start moving assets or tampering with documents before the court can freeze anything."

I nodded in response. Honestly, I had no interest in meeting any of them either.

The last time I checked, Madeline was finally paying the price for what she’d done. People kept demanding that brands who were still working with her cut ties with her. Apparently, it worked.

These days, it was rare to see anyone defending her, and even if someone did, it was probably just part of her hired "water army."

People said that holding a grudge against her father was one thing, but bullying the child born from his affair was another matter entirely.

In the end, more and more "white knights" began to defend me, and since people love following whoever has the most supporters, others soon joined in and became my white knights as well.

They went after Madeline nonstop on social media, calling her a wolf in sheep’s clothing and throwing insults until she finally deactivated all her accounts.

I had to admit, it felt good watching that happen. Madeline had spent so much time mocking Helcia online back then. Seeing her finally get a taste of her own medicine felt like the universe was just evening things out.

After there was nothing left to talk about, Ethan finally left the manor. This time, he was noticeably more polite to me than he’d been during our first meeting. Maybe Lando had warned him beforehand or maybe he just felt a bit sorry for me.

Either way, I didn’t really care.

"Helcia."

I turned my head when Lando called my name. We were still standing outside, watching as Ethan’s car slowly disappeared through the gate.

"You’re a bit quiet today," Lando said suddenly, catching me off guard. "What’s wrong?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer. I had to admit ... I had been unusually quiet ever since Lando came home. It wasn’t because I wasn’t happy to see him, but lately, I just didn’t have the energy to talk much.

It was perfectly normal, though. Every time I went through something that made my adrenaline spike, my energy would crash right after, like my body was begging me to slow down and rest for a bit.

Still, I had a feeling it wasn’t just that. I’d been stressing over which audition to choose next, and to make things worse, I hadn’t had a single bite of dessert to help me cope.

I let out a quiet sigh. Honestly, I just wanted something sweet. A slice of cake, a cookie, anything. Maybe sugar could fix my problems, but unfortunately, my body was still rejecting them.

Still, it was the first time someone had ever voiced concern about my silence. Most people didn’t care when I went silent. They usually joked about it instead and said things like "Oh, finally she’s quiet today," or "So you can keep your mouth shut after all."

But Lando didn’t sound like that. He wasn’t teasing me or brushing it off. He was genuinely asking, and for some reason, that simple bit of concern made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain.

"It’s nothing." I forced a small smile. "I was just thinking about my next audition and ... maybe about the upcoming trial. That’s all. You don’t have to worry."

Lando had helped me get through the legal process so far, but still, a small part of me couldn’t shake the fear that I might lose in court, and that Addison would once again find a way to crush Helcia’s dignity, or my dignity now.

Lando’s gaze softened, as if he could see every unspoken worry hiding behind my smile. "You won’t lose," he said gently. "I’ll make sure of that."

"I know," I replied, and this time, my smile came out a little more real. "I believe you."

Still, I couldn’t quite understand why I felt so tired inside. Maybe ... it had something to do with my past identity.

Earlier this afternoon, I stumbled across a few influencers talking about me—Helena Moore—in their so-called "unsolved story" videos.

The whole thing left a strange taste in my mouth.

Part of me was grateful that there were still people out there questioning what really happened to me.

But another part of me felt hollow watching it. Seeing my death turned into clickbait, my name used for views and ad money.

Actually, it made everything feel cheap. Like my life, my pain, and even my death were just another story for people to gossip about.

For them, it was content. For me, it was a wound that never really healed.

I felt so frustrated—angry, even—and I wanted nothing more than to know who was behind my death. Especially those men, and where they came from.

However, I had no idea where to start, and every time I tried to dig deeper, my hands would start trembling so badly that I couldn’t bring myself to keep going.

Deep down, I already had a feeling about who they were. They were probably part of some underground criminal group, one that forced women into making those disgusting videos and then sold them online for profit.

I remembered once catching a glimpse of the website’s name printed on one of their caps. That image was burned into my mind. But even now, no matter how much I wanted answers, I still couldn’t bring myself to type that name into my search bar.

Could I ask Lando to look it up for me?

But how was I supposed to do that? Just suddenly ask him to search for a porn website? That would sound so weird, and honestly, I had no idea how to even start that kind of conversation.

"Do you want to take a walk for a bit?" he asked suddenly, pulling me back to reality. "Maybe you’ll feel better after getting some fresh air. I usually walk around the house too whenever I feel ... stressed."

"Okay," I said, without even thinking of refusing. After all, I hadn’t taken my usual evening walk today, so there was no harm in going now.

"Do you want me to push you?" I asked, worried he might have trouble since the path outside the manor wasn’t as smooth as the marble floors inside.

"No, I’m fine," Lando replied with a faint smile. "I want to train my arms."

My gaze lingered on his hands for a moment. His hands were already on the wheels, his forearms flexing with every small movement.

His arms looked strong, defined, and ... unfairly hot.

I couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would feel to lean against them, to rest my head on his shoulder and just ... breathe for a while.

The thought sent a warm flush creeping up my neck, and I quickly looked away, pretending to admire the garden like it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen.

When I rested my head against his arm at the cinema, it honestly felt so comfortable. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to do that again.

God, seriously ... What was wrong with me?