Ryan's POV
Ryan Ashbrook had hardly slept the night before.
The call from Carter, his lawyer, had kept echoing in his skull: The ad is already live, Ryan. They plastered her face across Bexlin and three other cities. It’s only a matter of hours before the vultures circle.
He had wanted to punch through his desk, overturn the crystal glasses on his shelf, smash everything until silence came. But instead, he’d forced himself to think. To act.
And by morning, he was ready.
At dawn, he called his accountant. “Transfer one-point-eight-five million into the corporate account. Immediately. Mark it as a correction. Then send me the receipt.”
His voice was steel, leaving no room for questions.
Within the hour, the proof was in his hands. He forwarded it to Carter with two words: Shut. Down.
