Chapter Twenty-Two: The Night He Lost Control Ethan Blackwood did not rage. That was what terrified them. The war room was silent—too silent. Screens glowed with data, threats, shifting alliances. Men who had survived coups, blood feuds, and financial wars stood rigid, eyes forward, breathing shallow. No one spoke. Ethan stood at the head of the table, hands braced against the polished surface, head slightly bowed. His stillness felt like the pause before a bullet left the chamber. “She released it anyway,” one man finally said, voice tight. “The second wave. Anonymous, but it’s hers.” Ethan lifted his head. The look in his eyes made the room recoil. Not anger. Decision. “Lock down everything,” he said quietly. “Every channel. Every contact she’s touched in the last twenty-four hours.” “Yes—” “And find out,” Ethan continued calmly, “who encouraged her.” A pause. “Sir… that list includes people in this room.”
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