~Alessia~
The coffee shop's corner table felt like a war zone, steam rising from our mugs as I slapped the folder down in front of Adams, the papers spilling like spilled secrets.
His eyes widened, the coffee cup frozen midway. "What's this?" he asked, glancing around the busy spot.
"Proof," I said, sliding the printouts closer, my finger jabbing the highlighted lines.
"Mateo's digging showed logs from the clip's upload, tied straight to Isabella's servers. She's the one who cooked it, Adams, not some random hack. Last night, you said she tricked you... how deep did it go?"
He scanned the pages, color draining from his face, his fork forgotten on the plate.
"Jesus, this shows her IP all over the edit files. She fed me a line about Lorenzo toying with you, and showed fake chats to sell it." He paused, staring at the documents.
