Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Night My Best-Friend Ruined Me: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Adrian’s POVThe morning after the summit came in like someone had pressed pause on the world. The penthouse was weirdly quiet. Sunlight sliced through the reinforced glass and made bars on the carpet. I woke up on the sofa with a crick in my neck and the faint scent of Aria’s shampoo on the cushion where her head had been. It stuck with me like a photograph. Her tears soaking my shirt, the way she had melted in my arms the night before. I could still feel the shape of that moment in my chest.My phone lit up and I scrolled through the headlines without really reading them. Aria on stage. The near-disaster. The device in forensics. The press wanted drama and they were getting it. Images ran side by side, the glowing success and the close call. Let them talk, I thought. Let them talk and let the truth make his collapse uglier.My head was already working through the moves. Corporate sabotage. Attempted fraud. Public endangerment. Evidence chain. Witnesses. We had the serial number. We

Adrian’s POV“Alright, Leo.” I crouched down and adjusted the tiny baton in his hand like it was a fragile piece of mission gear. My eyes, the ones that usually skim balance sheets and quarterly forecasts, locked on the starting line. “Fast off the mark. Smooth hand-off. Don’t look back until you cross the finish line.”“Got it, Dad! Like a cheetah!” He pumped his fists so hard his whole body shook. He was all grin and impossible energy.A laugh bubbled up in me. “Exactly like a cheetah,” I said, and for a second I felt this ridiculous, fierce heat in my guts. This wasn’t a corporate sprint. It wasn’t a hostile takeover. It was a kid with a baton and a dad trying to not make a fool of himself. But the part of me that always cared about winning leaned in anyway. Old habits die hard.The whistle screamed.“Go, Leo, go!” I yelled, probably louder than was necessary. He shot forward, a blur of blue sneakers and pure intent. Watching him was like watching time speed up and slow down all at

Adrian’s POV“Alright, parents! Last event of the day! The legendary Parent-Teacher Tug-of-War!” The announcer’s voice had that theatrical glee that makes grown adults act like kids again. “Let’s see if you’ve still got it after a day of running, jumping, and crawling through tunnels!”My stupid competitive streak flickered back to life. Relay and obstacle course weren’t enough. This was the finale. The big dumb showpiece where pride and rope burn meet.“Thorne! Julian! Over here!” A burly dad, face already the color of effort, waved us over.Julian caught my eye and raised one brow like he’d read the whole afternoon in a single glance. “Looks like we’re on the same side. Don’t tell me you’ll let a bunch of PE teachers out-muscle you.”“Hardly,” I said and grabbed the rope. My hands closed on it like it was a handle to something real. “Try to keep up, Julian. This is not a stealth mission.”We lined up with a ragtag squad of parents. On the other side, a wall of teachers looked annoyi

Adrian’s POVThe penthouse was a study in quiet. Only the keyboard clicks and the occasional rustle of paper broke the hush. Leo and Aria were finally asleep, but sleep felt like a luxury someone else got to keep. Not me. Not tonight.My office had turned into a war room. Screens glowed with spreadsheets, bank transfers, encrypted threads. I ripped through transaction histories like a man looking for loose threads that would unravel an entire sweater. The vaccine was the headline, the shiny thing for cameras. The real rot was deeper: embezzlement, shell companies, suspicious invoices—Edmund’s fingerprints across the ledger. Every line I highlighted felt like another nail driven into the coffin of his empire. The more I dug, the colder and clearer my purpose became.It was going to be brutal. I knew the cost. Stocks would tank. Investors would freak. Our name would be dragged through the mud. But the alternative—letting him keep siphoning money, keep poisoning the company, let him walk

Adrian’s POVThe boardroom had gone dead quiet in that ugly way silence does when everyone is too scared to speak first.All eyes were on Edmund.He didn’t look smug anymore. That had burned off fast. His face had turned a sickly gray, and he looked cornered, like some wild thing realizing the room had walls.“These are fabrications,” he snapped at last.His voice cracked on the last word.He slammed his fist on the table hard enough to make the water glasses jump.“AI-generated. Deepfakes. All of it. Adrian, you’ve gone too far.” His finger was shaking when he pointed at me. “You’re trying to destroy me with technology. This is a smear campaign. A desperate attempt to seize control.”A few board members stirred. Murmurs started low around the table.That was the thing about men like Edmund. They always thought panic still sounded like power.I let the noise rise for a second, then lifted a hand.It died again.“I expected you to say that,” I said calmly. “Which is why I brought someo