Chapter 7: The Media Execution
Old money does not fight fair. When they cannot buy you, they try to destroy your reputation so that no one will listen to you when you scream.
By Wednesday morning, Julian Thorne had unleashed hell.
Sadi sat at the massive oak dining table in their penthouse, staring at the television screen. The morning news cycle was dominated by a synchronized, vicious smear campaign. Every major network and gossip blog was running the same fabricated headline:
The Hart House: Charity Sanctuary or Syndicate Money Laundering Front?
The reports claimed that Sadi’s foundation was a massive tax-evasion scheme designed to clean the dirty money from Roman’s past criminal enterprises. They interviewed “anonymous sources” who claimed Sadi had used physical threats to evict local businesses to secure the South Harbor land.
It was character assassination on a broadcast level.
Within three hours, two of The Hart House’s largest corporate sponsors called to suspend their funding pending an “internal review.” The Mayor’s office issued a statement saying they would be investigating the foundation’s financial records.
Roman paced the length of the living room, a phone pressed to his ear. He was speaking in rapid, furious Russian to his head of security. He hung up and threw the phone onto the couch, running a hand through his dark hair.
“Thorne paid off three media conglomerates to run the story simultaneously,” Roman said, his chest heaving with contained rage. “He’s manufactured a public crisis to force the city council to revoke your land charter on Friday.”
“Can we sue for defamation?” Sadi asked, her voice tight but remarkably steady.
“Defamation takes years in civil court,” Roman snapped, the polished veneer cracking to reveal the ruthless king underneath. “He knows we don’t have years. We have forty-eight hours. I am not waiting for lawyers, Sadi. I am going to find Thorne, and I am going to make him publicly retract every word with a gun to his head.”
“Roman, stop.”
Sadi stood up from the table. She walked across the room and grabbed the lapels of his shirt, forcing him to look down at her. His eyes were entirely black, swirling with the instinct to protect her through total destruction.
“If you put a gun to his head, you prove the headlines right,” Sadi said fiercely. “You give them exactly what they want. They want you to be the monster. They want me to be the mob wife.”
“I cannot stand here and watch them tear down everything you built!” Roman shouted, his voice breaking with a raw, agonizing vulnerability. “They are turning your mother’s name into a scandal, Sadi. Because of me. Because of my past.”
“This isn't about your past,” Sadi corrected him, her grip tightening on his shirt. “This is about Thorne’s greed. He is using your history as a weapon, but I am not the fragile girl who needs a knight to burn the village down. I need my partner.”
Roman closed his eyes, his forehead resting against hers. His breathing slowed as she anchored him, pulling him back from the edge of the darkness he had lived in for so long.
“What do we do?” Roman whispered.
“We fight in the light,” Sadi said, her mind spinning with terrifying clarity. “Thorne’s entire narrative relies on the idea that our original permits were illegal because they were processed by Huxley Meridian’s network. He’s going to bring a star witness to the city council hearing on Friday to testify that I extorted the permits.”
Roman looked at her, his brow furrowing. “Who could he possibly bring?”
Sadi picked up her tablet and tapped the screen, pulling up a leaked document from the city clerk’s office. She turned the screen to Roman.
The name on the witness list made the blood freeze in Sadi’s veins.
Trevor Vance.
“Thorne got to Trevor in prison,” Sadi said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He’s offering Trevor a reduced sentence or a massive payout to lie under oath and say Huxley Meridian forged my documents. If Trevor testifies, Thorne wins the land.”
May you like
Roman’s jaw locked. “I will have Trevor silenced before the sun goes down.”
“No,” Sadi said, her eyes hardening into diamonds. She grabbed her coat from the chair. “Trevor doesn't get the easy way out. Call the warden at Blackgate Penitentiary. Tell him I’m coming for a visit.”
