One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 04

One Screenshot to Burn an Empire Chapter 04

I walked up to the heavy, closed oak doors.

The audience was in place.

I checked myself in the rearview mirror—lips as red as blood, eyes as cold as ice.

My target was the office at the end of the hall. Julian’s office.

I heard it all, a cold smile touching my lips.

Cassia was on the leather guest sofa, crying her eyes out, her shoulders trembling.

“Cassia is still in the Don’s office. Saw her go in crying this morning, hasn’t come out.”

I held my head high, my chin slightly raised, my gaze fixed forward.

I ignored them all.

The scene inside was laid bare before me—and, I knew, before the countless spying eyes behind me.

The closer I got to the Don’s office, the clearer the whispers became.

“Dressed like that… she’s here to declare war.”

Excellent.

Cassia’s voice.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire office, I raised my hand, turned the handle, and shoved the door open.

The office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The usually quiet and orderly office was now shrouded in a strange, deathly silence.

I smiled, breaking the silence.

Stepping into the private elevator, I pressed the button for the top floor—the Don’s office.

“Don. Busy, are we?”

I didn’t knock.

Each step felt like it landed on their collective, beating heart.

The familiar reception desk, the familiar Griffin family crest.

His face was a mask of frustration and pity.

The air was thick with the stench of gossip and speculation.

But their darting eyes, their pricked ears, and the furtive movements of them messaging on secure apps betrayed them.

But today, the atmosphere was utterly different.

The sound of my heels was the only noise in the oppressive silence.

Everyone was at their desks, pretending to work.

In an instant, every gaze was locked on me.

“This is going to be good. Quick, open the private channel, start a live feed.”

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, taking in the touching scene before me.

The soundproofing was good, but I could still faintly hear the suppressed sobs from within.

At the sound of the door, they both snapped their heads toward me.

They watched me as if I were the star of the year’s biggest drama, making her grand entrance.

I pushed the door open, the sharp click-clack of my heels echoing on the polished concrete.

Panic flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by a fresh wave of grievance and tears.

I swept past them, my face a mask of indifference.

“Oh my god, the Donna is really here!”

And Julian, the moment he saw me, froze completely.

All of it wove together into an invisible net, closing in.

Julian stood by his desk.

Shock, curiosity, pity, schadenfreude…

I killed the engine but didn’t get out right away.

The Escalade slid into its designated spot in the club’s underground garage.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

When I appeared, a striking vision in white, the entire office seemed to hit a pause button.

The elevator doors opened.

The tissue hovered awkwardly in mid-air.

Good. This was my armor.

Julian was holding a tissue, his body angled toward her, about to hand it over.

When Cassia saw me, her crying cut off abruptly, as if someone had strangled the sound in her throat.

In the garage, the sound amplified—a steady, rhythmic beat like a war drum.