The first crack had appeared yesterday.
By morning, it had spread.
Executives who once whispered loyalty now avoided eye contact.
Investors called frantically.
The city's financial papers hinted at turmoil.
And all of it… traceable back to my careful orchestration.
The board convened again.
I entered calmly, my presence commanding the room without a word.
"Madam," the chairman said, voice tight, "several members have come forward regarding irregular approvals. Can you summarize the findings?"
I smiled softly. "Of course. And I will also add the most recent disclosures."
I tapped a few buttons.
Evidence appeared on the screens—emails, call logs, and documents linking my husband, sister, and their hidden allies to manipulation, concealment, and deception.
The room grew quiet.
Eyes shifted constantly.
Whispers barely contained.
My husband's hand clenched into a fist on the table.
My sister's face drained of color.
Allies turned against each other in real time.
The first domino had been pushed.
Now the others were falling.
Later, my ally called.
"They're fracturing fast. One member has resigned to save their own reputation."
I poured a glass of wine, tilting it against the light.
"Good," I said softly. "Let them panic. Let them fracture. Let them unravel."
He chuckled. "You make destruction sound beautiful."
"It's not destruction," I replied. "It's inevitability. And inevitability always wins."
By evening, my enemies had begun attacking each other openly.
Meetings were postponed.
Emails were sent accusing others of mismanagement.
The unity my husband and sister relied on… crumbled completely.
And I?
I observed quietly, untouchable.
Every reaction, every mistake… feeding my strategy.
That night, I wrote a brief note to my ally:
They don't realize yet. But by tomorrow, the dominoes will hit the right targets. And no one will be able to stop it.
The city lights reflected in my glass of wine.
Each flicker a reminder: control was mine.
And the fall of my enemies… unstoppable.