The first strike came wrapped in righteousness.
It always did.
The headline appeared on a Sunday morning, timed for maximum digestion:
"Can New York Trust a Legacy Built in Shadows?"
The article was careful. Painfully so.No accusations. No crimes listed outright.
Just questions.
Old photographs resurfaced—grainy, black-and-white, Michael Corleone standing beside men whose names history had not forgiven. Footnotes referenced sealed cases, dismissed indictments, "unproven allegations."
The political rival behind it never appeared in print.
But Luke knew him.
A man groomed by think tanks and donors who believed corruption only existed when practiced by others.
Luke watched the media cycle unfold exactly as predicted.
Morning outrage.Afternoon debate.Evening exhaustion.
Michael's campaign did not respond.
Silence unnerved them.
By Tuesday, the rival escalated—press conferences, moral speeches, calls for "absolute transparency."
Luke allowed a single response.
A document drop.
Audited. Verified. Boring.
Decades of clean finances.Foundation spending logs.Independent oversight letters.
No defensiveness.
Just data.
The rival's momentum stalled—not defeated, but slowed.
Luke marked the phase complete.
Political blade deflected.