The following morning broke under a restless sky. Clouds rolled above the city like heavy gray curtains, mirroring the unease that gripped Helix's headquarters. The previous day's press conference had shaken the media — and the markets.
But not everyone was celebrating.
Laurent.
He had been quiet for days, waiting, watching from the shadows. When the truth came out, he hadn't been destroyed — not yet. But his pride, the last weapon he clung to, was bleeding. And in that wounded pride, he saw one final chance to strike.
---
Inside Helix Tower, Sarah and Eric reviewed the latest reports. Stock volatility had slowed, public sentiment was cautiously shifting in their favor. The narrative of redemption and transparency was gaining traction.
"People are starting to see us differently," Eric said, scrolling through the updates. "Some even call what we did yesterday 'a masterclass in crisis leadership.'"
Sarah didn't smile. "It's temporary. They love a comeback story — until they find a new target."
Before Eric could reply, the office door burst open. Ms. Lenoir, the young board member who had defended them earlier, stood breathless.
"You need to see this," she said, handing them a tablet.
On the screen: a live broadcast. Laurent. Standing at a podium, flanked by microphones, cameras flashing all around him.
"Helix Industries," he began, his tone dripping with rehearsed indignation, "has misled not only its investors, but the public. The so-called redemption story you all witnessed yesterday is nothing but calculated manipulation — a desperate attempt to rewrite history."
Sarah's pulse quickened. "He's launching a press attack."
Eric's jaw tightened. "He's cornered. This is his last card."
Laurent continued, voice swelling with false sincerity. "I was there. I know what really happened — the lies, the cover-ups, the backroom deals. They talk about truth, but I have the proof they're hiding."
Gasps rippled through the press crowd.
Sarah turned to Eric, her eyes sharp with both fear and fury. "Proof? What proof?"
He shook his head. "There isn't any. He's bluffing."
But deep down, both knew that in the court of public opinion, truth mattered less than the performance of it.
---
An hour later, the boardroom filled again. The air was electric with tension.
Halberg spoke first, his voice low and deliberate. "This cannot continue. The company's image won't survive another media explosion."
Sarah stood, her composure ironclad. "With respect, sir, running from this will only feed his narrative. We face it — live, openly, like we did before."
Ms. Lenoir nodded. "She's right. The more they hide, the more power Laurent gets."
Eric leaned forward. "Then we go live. Tonight. Together."
Halberg exhaled, resigned but convinced. "You'll have one chance. Make it count."
---
That evening, Helix hosted its own emergency broadcast.
The world tuned in.
Sarah and Eric stood side by side — not defensive, but resolute. The lights were harsh, the cameras unforgiving, but they no longer flinched.
Sarah spoke first. "You've heard accusations. You've heard speculation. Now, you'll hear the truth — not from documents or rumors, but from us."
She paused, steadying her breath. "Yes, there were mistakes. But what Laurent Darson calls deceit was nothing more than protection — protection of a child, of a family, of dignity. There was no corruption. No hidden transaction. Only fear — and love."
Eric took over. "Laurent Darson was once part of that family. But his version of the truth serves only his bitterness. We will not attack him — but we will no longer let him use our silence as his weapon."
The feed cut to Laurent, watching the broadcast from his hotel room. His jaw tensed. His plan — his revenge — was crumbling.
On screen, Sarah continued, her voice unwavering. "We stand here not to defend our mistakes, but to own them. Because transparency is not weakness — it's leadership."
The room erupted in applause.
Social media exploded again — but this time, the tone was different. The world wasn't mocking. It was listening.
#HelixTruth trended within minutes.
---
Later that night, in the quiet of their home, Sarah stood by the window, watching the storm finally break.
Eric joined her, his voice low. "You did it."
She turned to him, tired but peaceful. "We did it."
He reached for her hand, and for a long moment, the chaos outside felt distant.
"Laurent won't stop," she murmured.
"No," Eric admitted. "But now, it doesn't matter. He's fighting ghosts. We're building something real."
And as thunder rolled across the horizon, Sarah leaned her head against his shoulder, whispering the words that had carried them through every battle:
"We face it together."