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Isabella is pressed up against my side. Her warmth and her softness are the only things I want, other than for the moment to last forever. At some point, I know we have to head back to the city, but for now, I can pretend nothing exists outside of this bed.

As if the universe is showing me that I have no real power, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. I ignore it, but it buzzes again. And again. Then Isabella’s phone starts pinging.

I sit up, my heart rate spiking to that familiar 4 a.m. gallop, even though the clock says 7:15.

The first notifications are from my assistant, Aaron’s assistant, and Dad’s assistant. Other texts from the board follow. There is a news alert from The Financial Times, along with a text from my father, four words that feel like a cold dagger in the center of my chest.

What did you do?

Cold dread spreads through my body. Isabella stirs, dragging herself out of a deep sleep and blinking against the light. “Sebastian? What is it?”

I tap the news alert. Reading the headline feels like being punched in the gut, leaving me dazed:

KING CORP COO LINKED TO DOJ BRIBERY SCANDAL—ILLEGAL DATA BREACH REVEALED

A sharp gasp from beside me tells me that Isabella has read the headline on her phone. Her eyes are wide and filled with uncomprehending distress. “What the hell is this?”

Part of me doesn’t want to know. I want to shut off my phone and pretend none of this is happening, hide out until it all blows over. But I know it will get worse before it gets better.

Isabella and I scramble to the library. I’m on my computer and my phone at the same time while she makes calls of her own. After a few moments, I simply stop and stare at my laptop screen, watching my life’s work being dismantled in sound bites and image captions.

The “evidence” is terrifyingly thorough. There are logs and digital footprints, showing that a private account linked to my personal holdings transferred a figure in the millions to an offshore account belonging to a lead investigator at the Department of Justice. But the second part is the killing blow: a time-stamped entry, showing my security key was used to access the confidential valuation files for the biotech acquisition the night of the leak.

I try desperately to remember what I was doing that night. I was either at home or in the office working after everyone else had gone. Either scenario, I’m alone and without an alibi. There is no one to verify I didn’t do what they’re accusing me of doing, what the so-called evidence says I did.

Another headline flashes at the bottom of the screen:

THE KING’S RANSOM: NEW EVIDENCE LINKS SEBASTIAN KING TO

DOJ BRIBE

The wire transfer records are being blasted across every financial terminal in the hemisphere, showing a routing number that traces back to a Cayman sub-account I haven’t used since my Stanford days.

Our stock isn’t just dropping; it’s plummeting at terminal velocity. Investors don’t care about the truth. They care about stability, and a COO “caught” in the logs stealing secrets and bribing DOJ officials is the definition of instability.

Yesterday’s sun has disappeared, replaced by a low, colorless gray sky. A cold and sinister realization crawls up my spine. My fear has come true. I’m bringing down the King legacy.

“Sebastian.”

I turn at the sound of Aaron’s voice. He holds out his phone to me, and I take it after a moment’s hesitation.

“Sebastian? It’s Tom.” Tom is the lead attorney on the King Corp’s payroll. “Tell me this is all bullshit. Tell me someone’s trying to frame you, blackmail you, something.”

He sounds like he’s caught between panic and a desire to dive off the roof to avoid the fallout.

“None of it is true; I swear.”

Silence.

“I believe you,” Tom finally says. “But you’re going to have a hell of a time convincing anyone else with all the evidence against you.”

“I didn’t do it!” I shout, my resolve finally breaking. “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on for weeks. Why would I spend this much time trying to fix things if I was the one behind it?”

Isabella softly touches my arm, trying to lend comfort.

Aaron clears his throat. “There’s another problem.”

“What did Aaron just say?” Tom demands. “Put me on speakerphone.”