Chapter 3

The call was on speakerphone, and I could hear every word.

Randall hung up. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at me, and his voice was hoarse.

"Tristan, did you hear that? This isn't just about saving Harper anymore. You need to get out there and support Mr. Reeves' rescue plan! That is an order!"

I let out a lazy yawn, completely tuning him out.

Just then, a commotion broke out just outside the police station.

A handful of self-righteous bystanders, whipped into a frenzy by the media and my live stream, had somehow caught wind of my whereabouts and swarmed the building.

The moment they spotted me through the glass, they started shouting in a furious rage.

"Cold-blooded, selfish piece of trash! You don't deserve to be a father! Get out there and save your kid right now!"

"Seriously! Even a beast wouldn't do that to its own kin! How can you be so heartless?"

I looked down at them with an indifferent stare and said, "What happens to her is none of my business."

That single sentence sucked the air right out of the room.

The crowd gaped at me in sheer disbelief, looking at me like I was some kind of monster.

An older woman was the first to snap back to herself. She whipped her phone out of her pocket, brought up a screenshot of a wire transfer, and shoved it against the glass.

"None of your business? This is the proof that your wife is bankrolling your allowance! Everyone online is talking about it! You're nothing but a parasitic deadbeat who only got to where he is by riding his wife's coattails. And now you're abandoning your wife and kid? You're despicable!"

The others quickly followed suit, holding up their phones.

Every single screenshot showed a transaction history of Madeline transferring money to me.

"Exactly! Hundreds of thousands of dollars are transferred every single month!

"We all saw the receipts, and it went on for five straight years!"

Seeing those records, Randall was shaking with so much rage that his fingers trembled as he jabbed one right at my nose.

"Y-You bastard! Not only are you completely heartless, but you've been comfortably living off your wife's dime this whole time!

"You've dragged the Sheffield family name through the mud!" he roared with righteous indignation, acting as though I had truly committed an unforgivable sin.

But both he and I knew the real story.

That receiving account did belong to me, yes.

However, the second any money hit that account, it was automatically forwarded into a completely different account owned by a man named Dalton Reeves.

No matter how much they begged, pleaded, or hurled insults, I didn't react. I merely sat there like a spectator, coldly watching their little act play out.

Minutes ticked by, and the golden window for a rescue at the tiger enclosure was rapidly narrowing.

Online, the internet was completely losing its mind.

#StreamerTristanSheffieldLiveStreamsDaughterFallingIntoTigerEnclosure

#TristanSheffieldDetainedForPromotingViolenceOnStream

#TristanSheffieldIsADeadbeat

One glaring hashtag after another was pushed to the top of the trending lists. In a matter of hours, my name had become synonymous with cold-blooded, incompetent, and shameless behavior.

Just then, breaking through the noise of the rescue's live broadcast, a faint, ragged cry of a little girl echoed from the speaker.

It was my daughter, Harper Sheffield.

"Daddy… Daddy, can you hear me?"

She seemed to be using every ounce of her strength, her voice filled with both the fear of death and a yearning for life.

"Daddy, I believe in you. I know you're going to save me. My whole life, you've always been my hero. You wouldn't just give up on me, right?"