I didn't move from my position in the dark. I watched the scene in the little black box of their private hell unfold on my monitor: Julian, a statue carved from regret; Chloe, her face a mask of grim duty as she secured the silver drive; the guards, efficiently and impersonally taking a limp Elena by the arms. It was over. The lie was contained, the truth established within those four walls. For a moment, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. I had done it. I could walk away.
But walking away meant leaving the narrative in their hands. Julian would spin it as a corporate matter, a rogue employee dealt with swiftly. Chloe would issue a sterile press release. The world would see a footnote, not the foundational c***k in the Thorne empire. They would see a mess, neatly cleaned up. Th
