At that moment, Samuel leaned forward in the car, his voice low but firm as he spoke to his manager seated in the front passenger seat.
"Set up a meeting with her before," Samuel ordered, his tone carrying no room for argument. "Make sure it's private. The usual place the one I always use to see her. No one can know about this. No press, no leaks, nothing."
Then the manager glanced back at him nervously. "You're talking about… your wife?"
"Yes," Samuel snapped, his patience thin. "She's the only key to fixing this mess. If I can get her to turn this around, make her say she was forced, make her blame the people who pushed her everything dies down immediately. The crowd will eat it up. They always do."
He rubbed his temples, anger simmering just beneath his voice. "Someone put her up to this. I know it. And if that's the game they want to play, fine. I'll play it better."
Then the manager nodded quickly. "No problem, sir. I'll set it up immediately."
