Aria POV
The Blackwood Tower conference room had never felt so much like an execution chamber.
Fifty reporters packed the space, cameras pointed at the podium where Damien and I would stand. The air buzzed with anticipation—vultures waiting for the carnage.
"Two minutes," Agent Sarah said quietly from the doorway. She'd insisted on being present despite Marcus's warnings. "Are you sure about this?"
I looked down at the speech in my hands. Five pages of carefully crafted destruction. Every mistake I'd ever made, every questionable business decision, every moment of anger and vengeance laid bare.
"I'm sure," I said, though my hands shook.
Damien stood beside me, his own speech clutched in white-knuckled fists. He'd barely slept—neither of us had. We'd spent the entire night preparing, planning, hoping this gamble would work.
