Ruthless Desires

what you've just done?" he

s flying over the keyboard as the newsroom hummed around her. The tension in the air was thick. Th

e, and an elaborate web of financial fraud. They had siphoned billions through shell companies, falsified reports, and bribed regulator

-read the article, ensuring every source was verified, every claim backed by undeniable proof. There was no room for mistakes. She triple-checked the files, confidential e

d under the harsh fluorescent lights: "Blackstone In

hit

s. Greg let out a heavy sigh, closing his laptop. "Blackstone International isn't som

s, whistleblower statements,

the country." Liana folded her arms. "So? We're journalists. This is what we do." Greg's expression turned grim. "Not

gues whispered in hushed voices, glancing at her before quickly looking away

ched her with a solemn expres

htly his knuckles had turned white. He wasn't alone. A suited man, sleek and snake-like, sat

st exposé of the d

nreadable you are hereby term

augh escaped her. "That's ridiculous.

t my dec

ered. "Greg, you

s. Ethical violations. Fabricated evidence." Liana f

w that's

Miss Carter, you failed to disclose proper sour

't." The realization dawned: Blackst

her. "Greg, don't do t

s no fight left, Liana. They

he NDA, and we won't pursue further legal action." Liana stared at the pap

g. But the nightmare wasn't over. By the time she got home, she was already blacklisted. First, The Sentinel e

tment, staring at the eviction notice on her coffee table. Rent was due in five days. Her savings were go

en foreign media outlets. Anything to keep her afloat. No responses. She was a pariah. The powerful men she had exposed

you had to take it. Her father, an investigative journalist, had taught her the power of the truth. He had expose

to continue his legacy. She put herself through journalism school on scholarships and grit, working three jobs just to stay afloat. She didn't chase fluff stori

le of cheap wine in one han

nown n

ion made her answer. "Liana Carter?

cts kicked in "My employer wishes to

ter". The voice on the other end c

oking f

the other end was deep, steady, and just the slightest

ng," she sai

s never given an interview, never allowed a journalist access to his personal

aughn Enterprises. Ruthless, enigmatic, and one of the most

to hear the terms before you decide," the voice said. There was somet

udgment, she whisper

e Maison Rouge at 8 PM," the man said. "K