Chapter 3 - The Media Puppet
The lobby of Vanguard Media was a temple of glass and steel, a monument to Jared’s ego. Standing there as "Elena Vance," I felt a strange sensation of vertigo. Three weeks ago, I had been the woman who brought him coffee and sat in the background of his success. Today, I was the shark circling the boat.
Using the research I’d compiled from my motel room, I’d identified the exact artery of his corruption: the Briggs Lifestyle Initiative. It was a shell company masked as an influencer empire, but in the server logs I’d scraped from his home office, it was clear: it was a laundry machine for illicit capital.
I waited in the conference room until Courtney Briggs entered. She looked exactly as she did on Instagram—flawless, glowing, and utterly devoid of a soul. She was rubbing her belly, a gesture I now knew was calculated performance art.
"Ms. Vance," she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Jared tells me you’re a miracle worker when it comes to PR crises. We have... a few reputational hurdles."
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"Every company has skeletons, Ms. Briggs," I said, my voice cool and professional. I didn't flinch. "The difference is whether you hide them in the closet or build a house over them."
Her smile faltered for a microsecond. I had landed a hit. I spent the next hour presenting a fake, fabricated audit that highlighted 'discrepancies' in their offshore accounts. I watched her composure shatter as she realized that someone—me—knew exactly where the money was buried. I wasn't there to fix his PR; I was there to confirm their fear.
