Meg Banks Leaks Novels & Stories

That figure in my mind was becoming clearer and clearer. The next day, the news broke that Ramsey Group had been sealed due to debt disputes. Mona and my father were trapped at the company entrance by creditors, a complete mess. Even better, the story of Mona secretly transferring money from my bank account was anonymously exposed online. Transfer records, security footage screenshots, and even an audio recording of her arrogantly threatening me were all released. Public opinion exploded instantly. [She stole her sister's money? That's disgusting!] [Bankrupt and still this arrogant? No wonder the creditors are after them.]

The apartment in Berlin was quiet except for the war playing out on the screen. Isolde sat on the edge of a weathered chaise, her fingers wrapped tightly around a mug of untouched tea. Across the room, Penelope’s phone buzzed nonstop alerts, news outlets, encrypted messages flooding in. CNN. Al Jazeera. BILD. BBC. Every broadcast began the same: “Breaking tonight a massive leak implicates an international private society known as Velvet…” Names scrolled down the ticker. Men Isolde had only seen in passing at the club. Faces unmasked. Dates, bank transfers, performance footage.

He smiled that predatory smile I knew well. “I don’t,” I said. “I have something to finish.” He laughed. Actually laughed. “So theatrical. You think you can come here, throw a tantrum, and collapse a dynasty?” “No,” I said calmly. “I already did.” He froze. “I leaked your accounts to every major outlet. Exposed the shell companies. Froze your offshore networks. Makayla backdoored your security, and Dominic gave me the rest. The reporters are outside. The dogs are at the door.” I laid it all out there.

“Some investors are already pulling out.” Aria froze. “What?” “You need to check the news.” A cold feeling settled in Aria’s stomach as she grabbed her phone. The moment the screen lit up, notifications flooded in. Breaking headlines. Emergency board alerts. Investor calls. Her heart dropped as she opened the first article. CONFIDENTIAL MONROE COMPANY FILES LEAKED Aria’s breathing slowed. She kept reading. Internal financial reports… Investor agreements… Asset details… Projected losses… Private negotiations… Everything was in the news.

--- *Monday | 9:00am | The Leak* It started with an email forward. Someone inside Meridian had taken a screenshot of the appointment calendar that said “S.B. - Paternity Panel - R.H. present” and sent it to a finance gossip account with the subject line “You didn’t get this from me.” By 10am it was on a blog. By 11am Business Insider had it. By 12pm both Carter and Blackwood stock were bleeding. Carter down 4%. Blackwood down 9%.

But his stillness cut through the morning buzz like a scalpel. "What is it?" she asked. Ethan slowly rotated the screen toward her. Zurich: Red-Level Alert. Audit Triggered – Holdings under Review. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Then his phone vibrated again. But this time, it wasn’t the Caymans. Anonymous leak published. Title: "Inside Kellerman’s Pharma Fortress: The Human Cost of a Billion-Dollar Empire." Anna’s brows rose. "The reporter?" Ethan gave a single nod. “He ran it early.”

The morning began not with sunlight, but with headlines. Amara woke to the vibration of her phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. She reached for it groggily, expecting another social notification, perhaps a reminder from her calendar. Instead, bold letters screamed across the screen from multiple news outlets: “Adeyemi Holdings in Crisis—Confidential Leak Exposes Empire’s Secrets.” Her breath caught.

Somehow, in his eyes, that had become proof that I had been leaking corporate secrets. As the accusations flooded the group chat like endless waves, I spoke up once more. "For the very, very last time, I did not leak corporate secrets!" Samuel immediately tagged me in the chat and dropped a screenshot, showing the pricing for a new product launch from Declan's company. "Holy crap. Am I seeing this right? Their product is the same type as ours, and their price is only a cent lower than ours!" I froze instantly. I stared at the screenshot he posted over and over again, checking every detail carefully. "That's impossible!"

In it were bank transfer receipts that were dated some weeks back. The exact week my viral scandal broke. The week Michael "leaked" the video that destroyed my life. My eyes blurred as I read the sender's info from A.Q. Holdings. And the recipient was a private offshore account that was linked to a known black-market hacker. It was a Five hundred thousand dollars transfer. With a short line that definitely looked like the words that was written by Adrian. In his unforgettable, cold, and detached tone. "Proceed with the leak and ensure the debt is unpayable. Bring her to the bar on Friday."

Just smear his perfect glass image with enough cracks that the rest shattered on its own. I grabbed my phone and started dialing. “Caleb,” I snapped when one of my old college friends picked up, half-drunk from the sound of it. “Remember that thing with Johnson’s brother? Yeah. Dig it up. Loudly. I want every blogger and every whispering vulture in the city feasting on it by next week.” Next call. “Marta. You still work at Midtown Bank, right? Good. I need you to leak something small about Johnson’s checks bouncing. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. Make it look like he’s overextended.”