Chapter 8– Fracture
The tension in the flat was suffocating. No one spoke. Not right away.
Elias stood by the window, framed in soft Prague sunlight that now felt like a lie. Amara remained frozen near the desk, the flash drive still warm in her palm, like it might burn through her skin at any moment.
"You said you were with me," she whispered. "You said you were different."
"I am," Elias said again, more desperate this time. "Yes, I lied. I knew Myra back then. I worked a few cases with her firm—before I knew who she really was, before I knew what West had uncovered."
"But you knew me," Amara said. "And you didn't tell me the truth. You had so many chances."
Elias swallowed hard. "I thought if you knew, you'd never trust me. And I needed you to trust me—to get this far."
Michael stepped in between them. "You used her."
"I protected her!" Elias barked. "I turned my back on Myra. I walked away. I've risked everything. And don't pretend any of you are clean. Mason, how many people have you manipulated to get information? Liana's lied to half the press. Michael held this ledger and said nothing for years."
"That's not the same," Amara said coldly. "None of them made me believe they were my lifeline."
Silence.
It was Michael who finally broke it. "We can fall apart now, or we can finish this. Myra's not stopping. And that drive? That was only part of the evidence West left behind."
Amara didn't look at Elias as she nodded. "Then we finish it. But after that... I don't know."
She turned and left the room, needing air, needing space.
Down the street, Prague felt like another world entirely. Couples laughed in cafés. A street performer played a violin. And Amara stood alone with the weight of betrayal pressing into her ribs.
West's voice haunted her now more than ever.
"Tell him. Don't trust anyone."
But she had. And now everything felt poisoned.
Back at the flat, Liana had joined the team again—her arrival quiet, but her energy sharp. "I've been tracking Myra's movements. She's booked a private conference in Berlin under a shell company. Two days from now. Closed invite. Political, medical, legal elite."
Amara's eyes narrowed. "She's prepping her next move."
"She's planning to silence us," Michael said. "Maybe permanently."
"Then we crash the party," Mason said. "Expose the ledger. Leak the files. Force the people in that room to choose a side."
"And Elias?" Liana asked, her voice soft but pointed.
Amara didn't answer at first. She looked at Elias.
He didn't flinch. "Let me help fix this. Let me prove I'm not who I was back then."
She stared at him, searching for truth in his face.
Maybe it was still there. Maybe not.
Finally, she said, "You'll be there. But you don't lead anymore. You follow my call."
Elias nodded. "Understood."
They had forty-eight hours.
Two days to bring down Myra Solarin.
And Amara had never been more uncertain—or more ready.The city of Berlin pulsed with cold ambition. Skyscrapers gleamed beneath cloudy skies, their glass exteriors reflecting a world that thrived on image over truth.
Amara stood before the grand hotel where the conference was being held—an exclusive summit masked as a medical innovation event. In reality, it was Myra Solarin's stage, a gathering of the powerful and complicit.
She wore a tailored black coat, her curls pinned into a sleek bun, face calm but eyes sharp. At her side, Michael adjusted the cuff of his suit, while Mason, posing as their security liaison, scanned the crowd through tinted lenses.
Inside, Liana was already embedded, posing as a reporter from a health tech magazine. And Elias—Elias had gone in under a different name, using his former connections to get close to Myra.
The plan was clear: expose the ledger, play the audio and video files, and dismantle Myra's network in front of the very people who once shielded her. One truth. One moment. One chance.
Michael nudged Amara. "We're up."
They walked through the grand lobby, past chandeliers and champagne glasses, through halls lined with security. No one questioned them—power rarely suspected itself.
In the ballroom, Myra stood beneath a towering banner that read: "The Future of Health: Progress Through Power."
She looked radiant. Untouchable. The kind of woman who smiled while ordering a ruin.
Elias stood at the edge of the room, eyes locked on her. When she glanced his way, her expression flickered.
She knew.
The lights dimmed. A speaker began his keynote, a speech about innovation and access.
Amara's heart beat in time with the seconds counting down.
At exactly 11:27 a.m., Mason pressed a hidden switch beneath his blazer.
The screen behind the stage flickered.
A new video began to play.
First, images from the ledger—names, signatures, bribes.
Then, audio: Myra's voice, instructing a judge to dismiss a trial. Ordering silence. Threatening a whistleblower.
Finally, the footage.
Myra and Elias.
"Keep her quiet," Myra's voice rang through the speakers. "She's too loud for someone so small."
Gasps rippled across the room. Phones were lifted. Eyes widened.
Myra didn't blink. She stepped forward, grabbed the mic.
"This is false," she said smoothly. "Fabricated by a woman with a criminal history. An unstable girl with a grudge."
Amara stepped onto the stage.
"I was that girl," she said, her voice echoing through the stunned silence. "And I'm not unstable. I'm the proof you tried to erase."
Security moved. But Mason blocked them.
Michael handed Liana a flash drive—one she plugged into a panel that triggered the media press feed.
Everything was being streamed. Live.
Amara held up the original ledger.
"This is real. You all signed it. Some of you are here today. And I'm not here to blackmail you. I'm here to give you a choice—walk away now, come clean, or go down with her."
Myra's smile faded. "You don't know what you've started."
"I know exactly what I've started," Amara replied. "And West Solarin—my aunt—she died because of you. But she left me the truth. And I won't die quiet."
The room erupted—some rushing out, some staying, whispering, recording.
And Elias?
He stood still, watching Amara—not with guilt, not with regret. With something closer to awe.
But she didn't look at him.
This moment was hers.