As Samantha came down from the stage, a huge crowd of media, business tycoons, and politicians surged forward, microphones raised like weapons, flashes blinding in every direction. The air was electric, thick with anticipation and scandal.
"Miss Bradley! Miss Bradley—how did you know Shelly was behind all of this?" one reporter barked, his voice cutting through the noise.
Before Samantha could answer, another voice—female, sharp, from a woman in a crimson dress near the front—called out:
"Miss Bradley, over here! What if Shelly had a reason for what she did in the company? What if she wasn't betraying you, but protecting herself?"
The crowd murmured. A thousand camera flashes lit up the ballroom, each one freezing Samantha in a moment of pressure. But she didn't flinch. She lifted her head higher, the stage lights framing her face in a cold halo of authority.
Then another question pierced the air. "What if Shelly was sabotaged, Samantha? What if she's the real victim here?"
