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Mia Torres sat at her desk, seemingly glued to her computer screen. The newsroom bustled with the sounds of ringing phones and hurried footsteps, but to all intents and purposes, her world was made up of the fragments she had unearthed during her investigation, in the form of a chaotic mess of highlighted notes, financial records, and email transcripts. There was a stop short of typing on her keyboard with her fingers as if they would type something in. "Torres!" boomingly roared Carl, from inside his office. "It's deadline.
Don't tell me you are still chasing your Johnny Lance conspiracy theory!" Mia groaned and rubbed her temples. She grabbed the stack of papers and walked into Carl's office, slamming it onto his desk. "It's not a conspiracy theory," she shot back. "Look at this. The timeline doesn't add up. The offshore accounts linked to Johnny? They were opened months before Silverstone's collapse. And these emails? They were sent from an IP address that doesn't trace back to him." Carl leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. "So what are you saying? Lance is innocent?" "I'm saying someone is setting him up. And I think it's Marcus Blackwood," Mia said, her voice firm. Carl rolled his eyes. "Blackwood? You think the golden boy of New Veritas is framing Johnny Lance? Do you hear yourself? That's a hell of an accusation, Torres. And unless you've got rock-solid proof, I'm not running that story." "I'm working on it," Mia snapped. "But you can't seriously believe Johnny is behind all this. It's too clean. Too convenient." Carl leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. "What I believe doesn't matter. The public loves a good villain, and Johnny Lance is a perfect target. He's arrogant, rich, and unapologetic. That's what sells papers." Mia shook her head. "So, we just run with the narrative, even if it's wrong?" ""Until you are able to demonstrate otherwise?" "Indeed," Carl replied straightforwardly. "This is not a nonprofit organization, Mia." It's an enterprise. Now, go ahead and write the damn story. Mia tightened her jaw, pivoting on her heel and marching out of the office. She slammed her laptop closed and picked up her bag. The bar was softly illuminated, the sort of spot where individuals visited to find solitude. Mia noticed Johnny sitting in a booth in the rear corner, sipping on a glass of whiskey. His elegant suit and self-assured stance made him noticeable, even in the darkness. "Drinking by yourself?" Mia inquired while she settled into the chair opposite him. Johnny glanced upward, his face firming. "What do you desire, Torres?" "I need to speak with you," she remarked, taking a folder from her bag and placing it on the table. Johnny looked at it briefly, then returned his gaze to her. "What is this?" Another attack article? Feel free, Mia. "Explain to me why I am the cause of children going hungry and puppies weeping." "Stop with the sarcasm," Mia remarked, her tone biting. "I'm attempting to assist you." Johnny emitted a harsh laugh. "Can you assist me?" That's ironic, coming from you. You contribute to the issue, Mia. "Each article, every headline portraying me as the bad guy-it's individuals like you who sustain this spectacle." Mia bent forward, her gaze sharpening. "I'm not the person setting you up, Johnny." "If you could pause your self-pity for just five seconds, you might come to that realization." Johnny's jaw clenched, yet he remained silent. "I've been digging," Mia continued. "The evidence against you-it doesn't hold up. The accounts, the emails, the transactions... someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look like you're guilty. But they made mistakes." Johnny's eyes flicked to the folder. "And you think it's Marcus?" "I don't think, I know," Mia said. "But proving it is another story. He's covered his tracks well." Johnny reclined, folding his arms. "Therefore, what is the issue?" You have your major narrative. Reveal him. "Bring him down." Mia paused, her eyes shifting down to her hands. "It isn't that straightforward." Johnny laughed derisively. "Certainly, it isn't." Let me take a guess-your editor won't permit you to publish it? "Or are you concerned about damaging your relationship with Marcus and his friends?" Mia's head jerked up, her eyes blazing with fury. "You believe I'm concerned about Marcus? "Do you believe I'm safeguarding him?" "Show me I'm mistaken," Johnny stated icily. "I'm jeopardizing my career just by speaking with you!" Mia replied sharply. "Do you know what it's like to battle against individuals like Marcus?" He has ties all over. "Individuals who can destroy my life with a single phone call." Johnny's face relaxed, though just a little. "What will you do now?" "Stay silent about the truth and allow him to escape unpunished?" "No," Mia replied resolutely. "However, I must approach this wisely." If I release anything lacking substantial evidence, he'll ruin me. "And you too." Johnny nodded deliberately. "Okay." "Then what is it that you require?" Mia fluttered her eyelids. "What did you say?" "You mentioned that you're trying to assist me," Johnny said. "What is it that you require?" Proof? Assets? "Share it with me, and I'll bring it to life." Mia paused, surprised by his proposal. "I... I'm not sure." "I didn't anticipate you to-" "To which?" Johnny interjected. "Concern?" Do you trust me? "Do you believe I'm merely a selfish jerk who only cares about himself?" "I never said that," Mia replied, her voice soft. "You shouldn't have needed to," Johnny responded with resentment. "That's the belief shared by all." Perhaps they are correct. However, I will not allow Marcus to ruin me. "Not this again." Johnny sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Marcus was my partner. My friend. We built my company together. But he wanted more. He went behind my back, stole my clients, my wife, my daughter... everything. And now, he wants to finish the job." Mia's eyes widened. "Your wife?" Johnny nodded, his voice tight. "She left me. Took Lily with her. And Marcus made sure I couldn't fight back. He used every dirty trick in the book to make me look like the bad guy." Mia leaned back, processing his words. "I didn't know." "Of course, you didn't," Johnny said, his tone bitter. "No one does. And Marcus likes it that way." Mia took the folder and sorted through it. "If you're genuinely planning to eliminate him, I might have a clue." "However, it might involve some risks." "You're absolutely correct." "Risky is my second name," Johnny said with a grin. "This isn't a joke, Johnny." If we even consider targeting Marcus, he will retaliate against us with full force. "Are you prepared for that?" inquired Mia. Johnny bent closer, eyes ignited. "I've been prepared for years." The inquiry is, are you? Mia accepted his challenge, her heart racing. "I suppose we will find out." The quiet grew dense with tension, laden with unsaid words shared between them. At last, Mia stood up and returned the folder to her bag. "I'll let you know what I find out," she answered as she turned to leave. "Mia," Johnny called out to her. She paused, leaning her head slightly to glance back over her shoulder. "Thanks," he said softly, almost inaudibly. She nodded, and a slight smile formed on her lips. "Kindly avoid making me regret this decision." As Mia exited the bar, Johnny observed her departure, and his mind was racing. After an extended period, he experienced an unexpected emotion: hope.