By morning, the city was buzzing.
Headlines flashed across screens:
"Financial Irregularities Exposed at Major Firm"
"Top Executives Implicated in Concealment Scandal"
"Transparency Reveals Internal Betrayal"
The names were obvious. My husband. My sister. Their allies.
And I?
I remained calm. Untouchable.
The board convened immediately. Cameras were present, capturing every expression.
"Madam," the chairman said nervously, "the public is aware. How do you propose we proceed?"
I smiled faintly. "With honesty. And accountability. No exceptions."
Murmurs rose.
Executives shifted uncomfortably.
And my enemies…
They could only glare.
My husband leaned toward me later, voice low, dangerous.
"You're destroying everything we built."
I tilted my head, calm, deliberate.
"Everything you built was on lies. I'm just clearing the debris."
His jaw clenched. He tried to speak, but I didn't wait.
"The company will recover," I continued, "but only by acknowledging truth, not hiding from it. And those who chose deception… will face consequences."
By afternoon, internal communications revealed panic.
Investors questioned loyalty.
Allies began to distance themselves.
Even my sister's former friends refused to support her.
She tried to salvage her image, sending emails, making calls… but the damage was done.
Every move she made only highlighted her guilt.
I received a message from my ally:
"They're crumbling faster than anticipated. The first wave of resignations is starting."
I smiled. "Good. Let the world watch them destroy themselves. My hands remain clean."
That evening, I poured wine, watching the city lights glow.
"Reputation," I murmured, "is fragile. And theirs… was already broken. I simply helped them realize it publicly."