Page 139 of What Comes Around

“What did you find out?” I asked.

“I got into their internal servers,” she said. “Accounting, executive email, legal correspondence. Everything.”

“And?”

“They’re in a full liquidity crisis. Three weeks of operating cash left.”

I went still.

“They already know it,” she continued. “They’re preparing emergency measures. Layoffs, asset sales, desperate outreach to investors. No one serious is biting.”

I stared at the street far below, letting the words settle. None of it surprised me. We had been laying the groundwork for this for years, piece by piece, until collapse was the only possible outcome.

“They’re bleeding,” Amy said. “And they know it.”

In my mind, I could already see it. The internal panic. The late-night meetings. The forced smiles in conference rooms. The denial.

Brandon had built his empire on control and now he was losing it.

“There’s more,” Amy said.

I waited.

“The IRS opened an investigation. Financial irregularities, tax discrepancies, undeclared assets. Nothing formal yet, but they’re digging.”

Of course they were. When something started to fall, it never fell alone. It dragged everything down with it. Every lie. Every buried decision. Every hidden compromise. Every skeleton.

“They’re trying to keep it quiet,” she added. “But internally… they’re preparing for bankruptcy.”

A slow, cold satisfaction settled in my chest. “It’s finally happening.”

“It is,” Amy replied. “Exactly the way we expected.”

I ended the call and stood there for a moment, the silence humming around me.

Outside the glass, the city moved without pause. Unaware. Indifferent.

Brandon’s empire was falling apart piece by piece.

Right on schedule.

Chapter 43: She Thought She Won

Apple POV

I hate mornings now.

They used to feel full of possibility. New messages. New followers. New brand deals waiting in my inbox. Validation, waiting for me to claim it.

Now there was nothing.

A few thousand likes, if I was lucky. A handful of comments. Most of them hateful.

I sat on the white leather couch and scrolled through my notifications, jaw tight, watching strangers dissect my life like they had any right. They spoke with such certainty, like they knew me. Like they understood what I had done, what I deserved.

They didn’t know me. They only knew the version of me the internet twisted into a villain.

Before I could spiral further, I clicked out of the app.