CHAPTER 5: THE ROOM THAT STARTED CONFESSING

Screens dropped from the ceiling.
Not surveillance.
Evidence.
Every guest.
Every deal.
Every hidden transaction.
A woman covered her mouth.
“No… no, that’s deleted…”
I stepped aside so she could see better.
“It was never deleted,” I said.
“It was archived.”
A man shouted:
“You can’t expose this!”
May you like
I looked at him calmly.
“You exposed it when you did it.”