The winter sun had barely crested the campus buildings when the first notifications began to ripple across phones like a shockwave. Students paused mid-stride on the quad, clustering around screens that glowed with the same damning clip.
"Yo… is this for real?" one guy whispered to his friend, eyes wide.
"Oh shit," another muttered, zooming in. "That's Derulo. Steven freaking Derulo."
The video was blurry, shot on a phone from years ago, but the audio was crystal clear: Steven's voice, laced with rage, screaming at a young woman who cowered in the corner of what looked like a hotel suite. Threats. Insults. The unmistakable sound of something shattering.
Overlayed text scrolled across the screen: Billionaire predator exposed? More videos dropping soon. #DeruloExposed
Anissa walked past a group huddled around one phone, catching just enough to make her stomach plummet. She quickened her pace, pulling her coat tighter against the cold that had nothing to do with the weather.
It's started, she thought, her pulse hammering in her ears. No turning back now.
Inside the sprawling glass fortress of Steven's mansion, chaos reigned. Steven stormed through the living room like a hurricane, his face twisted in fury. Shards of a crystal tumbler glittered on the marble floor where he'd hurled it moments before.
"Who leaked it?!" he roared, whirling on his inner circle.
Gina stood near the fireplace, phone in hand, scrolling frantically through trending feeds. Vic hovered by the bar, pouring himself a drink he clearly needed. Ronnie leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to look unfazed.
"It's everywhere," Gina said, her voice tight. "Instagram Reels, TikTok, Reddit threads—it's blowing up. Millions of views already."
Ronnie shrugged, feigning innocence. "Maybe one of the other girls finally snapped. You know how they get—"
"Bullshit!" Steven snapped, cutting him off. His eyes blazed as he pointed a finger at Ronnie. "This has Tanya written all over it. That vindictive bitch."
He grabbed another glass from the bar and flung it against the wall. It exploded in a shower of fragments.
In the serene heights of her penthouse, Tanya sat poised on a white leather sofa, legs crossed elegantly, a glass of red wine in hand. The massive TV on the wall was muted, but news alerts scrolled across her phone screen one after another: Steven Derulo trending worldwide. Allegations of abuse surface.
A cold, satisfied smirk played on her lips as she sipped her wine.
Checkmate, she thought, savoring the word.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. A text from Anissa: Phase 2?
Tanya's fingers flew across the screen: Drop the tapes. Now.
Back in the cramped warmth of Anissa's dorm room, the evening light filtered through half-closed blinds, casting striped shadows across the bed. Nelly sat beside Anissa, her face pale, hands twisting in her lap.
"Are you sure about this?" Nelly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Anissa didn't look away from the laptop screen. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
She navigated to an anonymous file-sharing site, dragging the massive folder labeled Derulo Files — Victim Statements & Contracts into the upload window. Dozens of scanned documents, audio recordings, video clips—years of evidence meticulously compiled.
The progress bar crept forward: 1%... 5%... 32%...
Nelly leaned closer, watching the numbers climb. "God forgive us," she whispered, more to herself than anyone.
Anissa glanced at her. "He doesn't have to. We're doing what needs to be done."
Outside Steven's mansion that night, the gates were besieged. Paparazzi flashbulbs popped like gunfire, reporters jostling for position behind the wrought-iron bars.
One live broadcast cut through the din: "Sources confirm at least seven women have now come forward with accusations against tech billionaire Steven Derulo, including disturbing claims of coercion and blackmail. One anonymous source alleges she's currently carrying his child."
Inside, Steven stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the circus below. His face was ashen, the usual arrogance drained away.
"Get the jet ready," he said quietly to Gina, who hovered nearby.
"Where will you go?" she asked, concern creasing her brow.
Steven turned, his jaw set. "I don't run."
His gaze landed on Ronnie. "Bring her to me. Now."
Ronnie nodded, already pulling out his keys. "Yes, boss."
Anissa's phone rang as she and Nelly paced the dorm room, waiting for the upload to complete. Tanya's name flashed on the screen.
"He's going to come for you," Tanya said without preamble, her voice calm but urgent.
"Let him," Anissa replied, steel in her tone.
"Do you have the backup?"
Anissa's hand instinctively touched the second flash drive tucked securely in her bra, against her skin. "Yeah. Safe."
"Good girl," Tanya said. There was a pause, almost approving. "Stay sharp."
Moments later, on the darkened campus parking lot, Ronnie's car screeched to a halt. He jumped out, scanning the shadows, his breath visible in the frigid air.
Anissa and Nelly ducked behind a humming vending machine, hearts pounding.
"If he catches us—" Nelly started, voice trembling.
"He won't," Anissa whispered fiercely, grabbing Nelly's hand.
Ronnie prowled closer, calling out into the night. "Anissa! Come on, babe. No more games. Steven just wants to talk."
His footsteps crunched past them, fading toward the dorm buildings.
They waited until he was out of sight, then slipped from their hiding spot and moved quickly in the opposite direction—toward the city, toward Tanya.
Minutes later, the private elevator opened directly into Tanya's penthouse. Anissa burst through first, Nelly close behind. Tanya was waiting, composed as ever, a sleek black handgun resting on the glass table beside her wine.
"Time's up," Tanya said, her eyes meeting Anissa's. "Ready?"
Anissa nodded, catching her breath. "Yeah."
Tanya slid the gun across the table. It stopped in front of Anissa, cold and heavy with promise.
"Whatever happens next," Tanya said coldly, "we finish it. No mercy. No retreat."
Anissa's fingers closed around the grip.