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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!”

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I looked at him calmly.

“You exposed it when you did it.”

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