Pete's name was still lit up on the reporter's phone as the officers walked him out. The room hadn't settled. Reporters were shouting over each other, and a few had already stepped half out of their seats, phones to their ears, feeding the story to editors in real time.
Ethan waited at the podium until the noise thinned enough to be heard over.
"Mr. Martin met with me last night," he said. "He wanted me to go on record against Eliott. His plan was simple — if I accused my closest friend publicly, Royalstar would be damaged and Eliott would lose support at Royal Corp before the board vote."
"Do you have a recording of that meeting?" someone called.
"I do."
The sound system carried Pete's voice into the room — confident, at ease, entirely certain he'd found the crack he needed.
You can do something I can't. People love you. If you tell them what he did, Royal Corp has to act.
Then Ethan's voice, measured: And the film? You want people to stop it from coming out?
