The live viewer count didn’t stop at 250,000. Within seconds, as news outlets picked up the broadcast, the counter surged past half a million.
Across America, millions watched as Arthur Vance—the untouchable billionaire chairman—and his nephew Julian stood in Maya Sterling’s office, frozen in horror.
“Cut the connection!” Arthur barked, his calm demeanor completely shattering. His voice cracked with panic as he glared at his security guards. “Kill the building’s Wi-Fi! Cut the power! NOW!”
“It’s too late, Arthur,” Maya said, her voice steady and clear as she spoke directly into the smartphone camera. “The world just heard you admit that you attempted to destroy evidence. Every investor, every board member, and the Department of Justice are watching this right now.”
Julian backed away toward the window, pulling at his collar, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “Uncle… what do we do? The board… the stock is going to crash tomorrow morning—”
“Shut up, Julian!” Arthur screamed, his face flushed red with rage. He turned back to Maya, stepping right up to her desk. “You think you’re a martyr, Maya? You think a viral video saves you? This building is sealed. No one leaves until I get that phone.”
Before Maya could reply, a loud mechanical CLACK echoed through the skyscraper, followed by the deep hum of heavy machinery shutting down.
In an instant, the office plunged into complete darkness.
The glowing cityscape outside was silenced as the primary power circuit broke. The only light remaining in the room was the sharp, pale blue glow of Maya’s smartphone screen illuminating her face.
“Signal lost,” a automated voice chimed faintly from her phone. The live stream was dead.
“Grab her,” Arthur’s dark voice growled from the shadows.
Maya didn’t hesitate. The moment the lights died, she grabbed her coat and the encrypted physical backup drive hidden underneath her desk blotter. As heavy footsteps rushed toward her in the dark, she threw her glowing phone toward the far corner of the office.
The guards lunged toward the light of the phone. Taking advantage of the split-second distraction, Maya slipped through the side executive door into the pitch-black emergency stairwell.
She took the stairs three at a time, her heart pounding against her ribs. But as she reached the 40th floor landing, a door creaked open below her. A flashlight beam cut through the darkness, locking onto her face.
“Maya Sterling,” a raspy, unfamiliar voice called out from the shadows below. “Don’t run. I’m not working for Arthur Vance… I was sent by your late partner.”
(To be continued in Chapter 5…)
