The Billionaire Crisis Writer

elow was just starting to stir, headlights flickering across wet asphalt, taxis honking impatiently. But inside, it was all

ter yesterday, I knew this wasn't a random leak. Someone had carefully chosen what to release, deliberately shaping a narrat

time. Something about it felt... off. Numbers didn't add up. Expenses were missing. Transactions weren't matching bank statements. My fingers tapped the table

a hidden folder, buried deep in the company system. It wasn't labeled with anything

ed it, I felt m

nds, falsifying reports, covering mistakes, and now they were using the leak to shift blame. And worse? There were traces of

I thought. The leak wasn't just a threat to

d my job was to see the facts and control the story. T

n transaction. Whoever had set this up had thought of everything. They'd made it look like Elias was negligent, care

, unspoken but thick. I hadn't told him what I found yet. I wasn't sure how he would react. He was

ng?" he asked finally,

gger than yesterday's leak. Someone has been manipulating internal fi

o notice. Gray eyes, usually calm, flicked to th

nd racing through every possible fallout scenario. If the board got hold of this first, or if the media did, we wou

ed up. "This...

a PR problem anymore. This is criminal. Someone inside is

need to move fast. Clean up what we can. Control what we

Strategy. And... honesty in the right doses. Otherwise, t

he files. Go through everything, find the

y funneled money, masked transactions, and falsified reports. And every leak, every selective reveal, was part of a

aused for a sip of coffee and realized I hadn't even eaten breakfast. I didn't care. This was bigg

anning everything. His attention was fixed on me almost immediately. I had met

I hope your review has been thorough. The b

ry entirely. The leak isn't random. It's targeted. And someo

Careful. That's a serious a

m. And I have the evi

ained silent, unreadable. "I

anipulate it, spin it, weaponize it. He had always been like that. I had to

emails. Elias followed my lead, asking questions, sometimes impatient, sometimes hesitant. I could see the pressure on him, the weight of k

red reports, and traces of manipulation. I felt a strange sense of sati

pers I'd organized. "You've done well. I do

You survive the day, the st

ot admiration, not respect, but ack

up was clever, ruthless, and far from done. And now, we had a new pr

at its center, armed with nothing but a lapto