Chapter 6 NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE

Damian stared at the letter in his hands, his eyes roaming from the signature line to the grainy photo of the man now sitting in his chair.

Maya leaned forward, reading his utterance. "You said you were stepping down."

"I was," he said slowly, "On my terms, With a succession plan, A foundation, Guardrails."

"And this... isn't that?"

He shook his head. "No. This is a hostile transition. They moved without me. They pushed it through the minute they thought I was distracted; maybe even used the press scandal as leverage."

Ivy crossed her arms. "There's more. Your private accounts have been frozen pending review. The legal department is 'looking into recent financial activity,' and your name is already being removed from all major branding decisions."

Maya blinked. "Wait, they can just... erase you?"

Damian's jaw tightened. "They're trying."

He dropped the letter down on the table, his fingers drumming softly on the edge

"I built that company from scratch," he muttered, "for Fifteen years, and now it's being gutted by people who never lifted a finger when it mattered."

Ivy stayed silent, She had warned him, But she also knew it wasn't the time to say 'I told you so'.

Maya stood up. "Okay, You need to fight back."

Damian looked up. "What?"

"You walked away because you were tired of the noise. I get that, but this isn't just noise anymore, This is theft, This is erasure. If you don't fight back now, you're not reclaiming peace, you're letting them turn your silence into a weakness."

"I'm not going back to that life."

"Then don't," she said. "But don't let them drag your name through the dirt while you pretend it doesn't matter. You don't have to be seated on a throne, but you shouldn't let someone else get the palace burnt down either."

Her words hit harder than she probably expected.

Ivy cleared her throat. "There may still be time to salvage some of your influence, at least on the charitable side. The tech literacy project, for example, They're already trying to cancel it."

Maya froze. "What?"

"They claimed it wasn't properly documented. No board approval. The new team wants to redirect the funding elsewhere."

Damian looked at her. "They're trying to wipe it all."

Maya's jaw clenched. "I'm just short of words"

---

That evening, they sat on the café floor with Maya's laptop and two mugs of strong coffee between them. Ivy pulled up files, Maya typed furiously, and Damian, now stripped of his empire, sat quietly, trying to map a world where he could start again from zero.

"We need press on our side," Ivy said. "A voice that doesn't twist everything into a scandal."

Damian shook his head. "That'll be hard to find now."

Maya glanced up. "What about the journalist who first found you? Eva Durell. She said she wanted a story, right? Maybe it's time to give her one."

"You want me to feed the beast?" Damian asked.

"No," Maya said. "I want you to tell your story, Your version, before they rewrite it."

---

The next morning, Damian reached out.

Eva didn't respond immediately, but by mid-afternoon, she texted back one line:

" You have one shot. Make it good."

They agreed to meet at a nearby park-neutral ground, no handlers, no cameras, no spin.

Maya waited at the café, pacing.

Ivy tapped away at her phone beside her, drafting damage control strategies and building a firewall between Damian's name and the corporate smear campaign unraveling online.

"I don't trust journalists," Ivy muttered.

"I don't trust billionaires," Maya said. "But here we are."

---

Damian sat on the park bench, watching ducks float along a muddy pond when Eva approached, dressed in jeans and a long black coat, recorder already in hand.

"No PR people?" she asked, surprised.

"No title, no salary, no protection," he said. "There's nothing left to spin."

She nodded, hit the record button, and said, "Tell me everything."

So he did.

He told her about the burnout, the loneliness, the escape, About Maya, about hiding his name to find something real, About falling in love without knowing he was doing it, About the regret.

Eva sat silent through it all; When he was finished, she turned off the recorder.

"This isn't the story anyone expected," she said.

"But it's the truth."

She nodded. "I believe you."

He blinked. "i didn't expect to hear that"

She offered a thin smile. "There's a difference between power-hungry billionaires and lost men trying to find something honest. I may write this piece, but I'll write it clean. You have my word."

"Thank you."

She stood up, slid the recorder into her coat pocket. "But you should know, your former board isn't waiting around. They're leaking their version of events tomorrow morning."

"What kind of version?"

"The kind that paints you as unstable, Reckless, Unfit."

Damian exhaled slowly. "Right."

"So you've got twelve hours to get ahead of it."

She left without another word.

---

That night, Maya sat alone in the café office, scanning headlines, watching as Damian's name climbed the trending topics for all the wrong reasons.

Then her phone buzzed.

An email from Eva.

"He told the truth. It's your turn."

Attached was the draft of the article Eva had written-raw, balanced, and deeply human.

But that wasn't all.

At the bottom of the email was a note:

"Your story deserves a voice too. Want to write a response? I'll publish it beside his."

Maya stared at the screen.

Her stomach knotted.

Could she do it?

Put her heart on paper?

Be vulnerable in front of a world ready to dissect every word?

Her hand hovered over the keyboard.

Then she started typing.

---

The next morning, for the first time in the past few days, the sun had broken through the clouds. The town still smelled of damp wood and coffee.

Maya opened the café for the first time since that week. A small line had already gathered outside-locals, curious visitors, people who had read the articles and showed up, not out of gossip, but out of solidarity.

Some even brought flowers.

One woman hugged her tightly and whispered, "You were courageous to tell the truth."

Maya couldn't believe what was happening. She wasn't used to that kind of kindness from strangers.

She turned, wiping her eyes secretly.

Damian was standing at the extreme of the counter, holding the morning paper.

His article, Her response, Side by side.

Their faces on the front page.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're a better writer than me."

"Wasn't hard," she said, lips twitching.

He stepped forward. "Thank you, for trusting me, Even a little."

She hesitated... then nodded.

"Still not over it," she said.

"I don't expect you to be."

They continued to stand there for a moment, the smell of fresh coffee hanging in the air between them.

And just as Damian opened his mouth to say something more, Ivy burst in, breathless and pale.

"They're trying to kill the tech center," she said, holding up her phone. "It's on the agenda for the emergency meeting-today. They're calling it a 'waste of funds'

Maya's face went cold. "After everything?"

"They think you're weak now," Ivy said. "They're moving fast."

Damian clenched his fists.

Then he looked up at both women.

"Let's crash the meeting."