They thought they knew where this was going.
They were wrong.
—
The second name didn't belong to a rival.
It didn't belong to someone already under suspicion.
It belonged to someone beloved.
—
When I said it, the room didn't explode.
It froze.
A full, terrifying stillness.
—
She laughed.
Actually laughed.
"You can't be serious," she said. "Everyone here knows me."
That was the problem.
—
I didn't raise my voice.
I didn't argue.
I simply changed the screen behind me.
Emails.
Audio recordings.
A signature pattern no one else used.
—
Her smile cracked.
Just slightly.
Enough.
—
"I protected you," she whispered. "I helped you rise."
I met her gaze.
"You helped yourself," I replied. "Using my fall."
—
The betrayal landed harder because it came wrapped in kindness.
They trusted her.
That trust shattered in real time.
—
She tried to speak again.
A lawyer stopped her.
That was new too.
—
The room filled with whispers.
If it's her… then who else?
Exactly.
—
When I finished, I closed the file.
"That's all for today," I said calmly.
They stared.
"Today?" someone echoed.
I smiled faintly.
—
Outside, the press screamed questions.
I walked past them.
Silence again.
—
That night, my phone rang.
An old friend.
One of the few who had once stood beside me.
"You've started a war," they said quietly.
I looked out at the city lights.
"No," I replied. "I'm ending one."
—