His Million-Dollar Lies, Her Vengeful Rise

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of fury, now contorted into something akin to terror. He took an involuntary step b

hisper. He tried to take another step towards me

t, refused to move. The pain in my arm where he had grippe

his suit jacket. Her tears, now genuine, streamed down her face, smea

zation that his entire carefully constructed life was unraveling before a crowd of wit

n accusing finger at my face. "She's a lunatic! Yo

was gone, replaced by a desperate need to control the narrative. "Eliza, what have you do

rong with you?" His voice was laced with a false concern that made my stomach

nd manager, now clad in a bespoke suit that probably cost more than our annual ren

ough the manufactured drama. "Don't pretend you don't

elebrity charity event, pushed forward, microph

de of green. He tried to stand, to silence me, b

he hissed, his eyes darting frantically around

't think of Cecilia when you chose to squander millions on this woman! You didn't think of Cec

oice dropping to a desperate whisper. "Money! A new apartme

ustin? The money you made from insider trading? The money you launde

s face entirely. He finally understood. I

s and reporters, my eyes fixed on the stage, where the event's elabora

dare!" He tried to follow, but the reporters, now a frenzied mob, swarmed hi

cking in. I found the main console, located the USB port, and without a

ng a logo for Fiona's charity, flickered. The logo vanishe

eryone, even Justin and Fiona,

ble voice filled the vas

inconvenience. Easily managed. And honestly, it provides a nice alibi when I need to disappea

ce. Gasps, whispers, shocked exclamations erupted like gun