Chapter 69 - ART OF THE COUNTER STRIKE

Hum of the city outside the penthouse windows felt like a low-frequency vibration under my skin. It was late, the kind of hour where the line between ambition and exhaustion blurs into something sharp and dangerous. I sat on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, my laptop glowing in the darkened room. The post I had made earlier was still rippling through the digital ether, a stone thrown into a glass pond. The narrative had shifted exactly as I intended. The tabloid smear was being dissected by fans and critics alike, turned into a cautionary tale about the predatory nature of paparazzi.