Chapter 1099
“I’m not trading for money,” Skye said. “I’m trading for a weapon. That evidence destroys Marcus’s political career. It ends him.”
“And the money?” Victor asked. “If I get the setting, Marcus gets the funds. He can buy his way out of any scandal.”
“Let him try,” Skye said. “But he’ll never be Mayor. He’ll be a rich fugitive.”
Victor considered this. His hand moved to his jacket. Alistair tensed.
Victor produced a heavy, encrypted drive. “This isn’t just emails, Skye. This is the entire financial topography of the coup — bank routing numbers, voice authorizations, everything. I pulled it from Cole’s safe the night he fled.”
He tossed the drive to Skye. She caught it.
Skye looked at Victoria. Victoria gave a single nod.
Skye threw the gold setting to Victor.
He caught it, turned it over to verify it, and smiled. “Pleasure doing business.”
He turned and walked away.
“Why did you do that?” Victoria hissed. “You just funded their war.”
“No,” Skye said, closing her fingers around the drive. “I just bought the ammunition to win it.”
The Sea City Charity Gala was in full swing. It was the social event of the season — a sea of diamonds and deceit.
Marcus Cain stood at the podium, looking every inch the benevolent leader. He was smiling, raising a glass to the city’s future. He had the money now. He thought he was untouchable.
Skye walked into the ballroom wearing a dress the color of fresh blood. Alistair was at her side, his hand warm at the small of her back.
They moved straight to the AV booth. Felix had already hacked the system.
“Now,” Skye said.
The giant screens behind Marcus flickered. His smiling face was replaced by a chaotic web of data.
It was not a simple email. It was a forensic dissection of his corruption. Detailed wire transfer logs cascaded down the screen like rainfall. Audio waveforms visualized and played through the speakers — Marcus’s unmistakable voice ordering the death of Secretary Lee, authorizing bribes to the zoning commission, and laughing about the fall of the Sterling empire.
“The assets are secure,” Marcus’s recorded voice boomed through the hall. “Burn the rest. No witnesses.”
The room went silent. Then a murmur began, swelling rapidly into a roar.
Marcus turned, saw the screen, and the color drained from his face.
Skye walked onto the stage and took the microphone from his limp hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, her voice ringing through the hall. “I think it’s time we talked about the truth.”
Flashbulbs erupted. The press surged forward. Marcus was backing away, searching for an exit, but Skye’s security had already sealed the stairs.
It was a triumph. A perfect, public dismantling of everything he had built.
Skye glanced down at her phone, checking the encrypted app where Julian was supposed to be watching the stream.
The feed showed the conservatory in the Alps. Julian was sitting in his wheelchair, watching the gala with a faint smile on his lips.
Then his head fell forward.
His hand slipped from the armrest and hung there, limp.