บททั้งหมดของ My Father’s Enemy, My Obsession : บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

They don’t drop the bomb right away. Mara Voss doesn’t work like that. She spends three days doing what good reporters do: verifying, triangulating, and talking to people who don’t want to talk to her. She uses the sanitized Lot 17 slice as a map, not as scripture. By the time she’s done, the bones of a story have become a skeleton. And skeletons are hard to ignore when you drag them into the light. *** The exposé airs at 8 p.m. on a Thursday. Prime time. Headliner segment. “Tonight,” the anchor says, looking very grave in a way that makes Riley snort, “our Investigates team takes you inside a shadow network of redevelopment deals, shell companies, and questionable demolitions that may have reshaped parts of our city without public oversight.” Mara appears on screen in a dark blazer, no‑nonsense expression, graphics hovering beside her. “At the center of this,” she says, “is not one man, but a system.” The word lands. System. Names of shells scroll by. Dates. Permit nu

Prison hasn’t dulled Damian’s mind.If anything, the cage has sharpened it.He has fewer distractions now. Fewer fires to put out personally. More time to think about structures instead of just tactics.Nina and Nolan take advantage.***The next visit is no longer just Ava and Damian.It’s a war room through glass.Ava sits in her plastic chair with a legal pad and pen. To her right, Nina. To her left, Nolan, tablet in hand. On Damian’s side, just him and the pad they finally allowed after Nina argued “adequate representation.”The guard watches from the corner.Damian picks up the receiver.“So,” he says, eyes flicking between the three of them, “who’s here to break bad news, and who’s here to make it useful?”Nina smiles slightly.“No bad news today,” she says. “Just questions.”Nolan raises his tablet.“We’ve been mapping Moretti shells,” he says. “Cross‑referencing Cass’s data with public filings. We’ve found clusters, but we’re missing the logic underneath some of them. You buil

The bridge is still under her skin when Ava makes the decision.Concrete. Gunshot. Leo’s words.You were never his daughter when the choice came down to you or his empire.She could vanish.Change her name.Let other people fight.Or she could do what she’s been dancing around since the first time she watched a building come down and felt sick instead of proud.Step into the light and say, “I saw this. I was part of it. I’m done pretending I wasn’t.”***The interview is Riley’s idea.The lawyered‑up, carefully calibrated version is Nina’s.The decision to actually do it is Ava’s.They choose Mara Voss.“She’s already in it,” Riley says. “She’s done her homework. She can smell bullshit, so you won’t look like you’re being spoon‑fed a script. And she’ll push you, which plays better than a puff piece.”Nina nods.“I’ve spoken to her editor,” she says. “They’re willing to give you the full segment. Live‑to‑tape. No chopping you into ‘emotional clips’ for ratings.”Ava sits at the edge of

The words “VALEN OWNS THIS CITY” echo far beyond the coffee shop.Clipped, replayed, memed, dissected.Within twenty‑four hours, they’re in every headline that matters—and a lot that don’t.Kade’s team doesn’t waste the opening.***“This is our wedge,” Nina says.They’re in another neutral conference room, this one inside the courthouse annex. Thin walls. Bad coffee. A stack of motions on the table between Nina and Nolan.Ava sits to one side, fingers laced together, trying not to crack her knuckles.“They already know he was attacked in the yard,” Nina continues. “Now there’s a public, documented attempt on Ava’s life, connected by the attacker’s own mouth to Valen. We can argue that keeping Damian inside without movement options isn’t just punitive—it’s materially dangerous and undermining to the investigation.”Nolan taps a finger on the top motion.“And we lean hard on the ‘central witness’ angle,” he says. “He’s not just some white‑collar perp. He’s the guy who understands the a

Home, for now, is thirty‑five floors above the street.Not the old Kade penthouse.There are too many memories. There are too many known access points.This one is new.Technically, it belongs to a shell company that Cass and Nolan created for exactly this purpose—clean lease, clean lines, more secure than it looks.Floor‑to‑ceiling windows. Reinforced glass. Discreet cameras Adrian trusts. A private elevator keyed to a handful of badges.Damian steps in for the first time with his ankle monitor pinging quietly against the new coordinates. The marshals’ approval is still warm on the paperwork.The space is spare but not cold.Boxes line one wall—files, personal items, a coffee machine Riley insisted he’d need. A large table dominates the main room, already half‑covered in notes and printouts.Ava stands by the window, looking out over the city that has tried very hard to kill them.She turns when she hears him.“Welcome to our lair,” she says, mouth quirking.He glances around.“Needs