107 STRONG AND WEST
The video began with Dorin entering the pantry followed by Reth.
"Dorin, will you go for a drink with me?" Reth asked, with a casual tone.
"No. I'm not interested," Dorin replied.
Reth's voice hardened. "Dorin West—are you still thinking of Lander Strong? He's doomed. In a month he'll be gone. I'll make sure of it."
"Please, Reth, don't hurt Lander," Dorin pleaded on the video. "You know the evidence against him is flimsy. All fabricated. He doesn't deserve this."
Reth's response was chillingly transactional. "If you agree to go out with me…and—" he paused, "I might intercede with the court and secure a lesser sentence for Lander."
"Are you serious?" Dorin asked. "You'd release him? What about your evidence?"
Reth's voice oozed contempt. "I am the evidence. If I want him executed or released, it is within my power. Will you agree to be with me or not?"
The playback cut.
The room erupted in shouts and accusations. The microphones rattled as journalists clamored for clarification.
Reth stood at the podium, his hands trembling. "These recordings are lies," he stammered. "Fabrications—nothing but slander."
But the damage was done.
The press conference meant to cement a narrative of guilt against Lander had instead exposed corruption, and the city's outrage began to swell.
Director Ambrone and the senior agents were clearly displeased by how the press meet turned out and quickly left, leaving Reth to be torn into shreds by the reporters.
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[Before the juicy video of Reth and Dorin was taken]
"Are you sure Reth will fall for this? What if he doesn't say anything to incriminate himself?" Dorin asked nervously, her voice low over the comms.
"Relax, I've planned this," Damen replied. "Just remember the steps — wear the pheromone perfume and slip the Elixir of Love No. 3 into his drink. That'll make him talk...horny."
Dorin hesitated. "You really think this will work?"
"There's no harm in trying," Damen said. "If it works, Lander walks free. If it doesn't, we move to Plan B."
"…Alright," she breathed. "Wait — he's coming."
"Good. Now offer him the coffee," Damen instructed.
Dorin composed herself as Reth Kellen entered the office lounge. She smiled faintly and handed him the cup.
"Coffee?" she asked.
"Thanks," Reth said, taking a sip. He followed her casually into the pantry.
What happened next — every word, every threat and confession — was captured on video.
That same footage would later would shake the entire SIA during the press conference announcing Lander Strong's execution.
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Almost immediately after the press conference, the city of Melrose erupted with talk about Lander Strong — not as a traitor, but as a tragic hero caught in a scandalous love triangle.
Overnight, he went from the city's greatest sinner to its most wronged victim.
Social media exploded with sympathy.
News outlets replayed the footage of Dorin's encounter with the sex predator Reth again and again, dissecting Reth's every word.
Hashtags like #JusticeForLander, #DeathToTheManiac and #SIAExposed dominated the feeds. Comments flooded in — thousands of them — condemning the agency and demanding Lander's release.
Behind the scenes, Kail made sure the tide stayed that way.
His subtle manipulation of networks and algorithms ensured that every trending topic tilted in Lander's favor. Any post defending Reth or the SIA disappeared almost as fast as it appeared.
Within hours, the story was out of control.
The SIA tried to clamp down on the leaks — issuing "official clarifications," censoring keywords, and threatening journalists — but it was already too late.
The public smelled blood.
Inside the SIA headquarters, the atmosphere was suffocating.
"What am I supposed to do now, Reth? Tell me!" Director Ambrone demanded, slamming his hand on the desk.
Reth Kellen stood trembling before him, pale and sweating. "It's not my fault! Dorin— she tricked me!"
"We all know that!" Ambrone snapped. "I'm asking what we do next! What about the treason case against Lander Strong?"
Reth straightened slightly. "We… proceed as planned. The verdict's already signed. We can silence the critics once the execution is done."
Ambrone stared at him in disbelief, then shouted, "You fool! The scandal's everywhere now… and it's reached the mayor's office! The public is demanding answers. Even our allies are backing off!"
"Then we'll… hold a public hearing again," Reth said weakly. "We'll show them the evidence."
Ambrone's face turned red. "If there was any solid evidence, do you think we'd be having this conversation? Once the files are re-opened and made public, it'll fall apart in minutes."
Reth collapsed into his chair, his hands clutching his hair. "What do I do now?"
"You resign," Ambrone said coldly. "Effective immediately. Lander Strong will be cleared of all charges. That's the only way to stop this from consuming us both."
Reth looked up, with panic in his eyes. "I didn't mean to… it wasn't me, I'm not normally like that… it was my hormones! Dorin must have…. she must have spiked my drink with something!"
"It's too late for excuses," Ambrone said, turning toward the door. "I want your resignation on my desk before noon."
The door slammed behind him, leaving Reth alone in the office, staring at his reflection in the dark glass — the face of a man who'd just destroyed himself.
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[In a modest office downtown]
They'd rented the smallest office they could find in a rough part of town—the cheap rent was the only thing it had going for it.
A battered table held a modest spread of drinks and pastries, the sort of thing strangers brought to a modest opening: polite, hopeful, and ordinary.
"Welcome, everyone, to the official opening of Strong & West," Lander said, offering a rare, genuine smile. "We're glad you could make it."
Lander no longer wore the SIA badge.
The court had declared his verdict a mistrial. He was released, and with the taste of betrayal still bitter, he'd walked away from the agency for good.
Dorin had left too and decided to be by his side.
Together they'd opened this detective office—to take cases that mattered to them, not to the people upstairs.
Damen arrived with Kail Venn and Zairgid Aukuoma, faces that had become familiar allies. The little room thrummed with a quiet energy—relief, uncertainty, and a thin, stubborn hope.
"Damen Dark—come here," Lander called, surprising him with the warmth in his voice. He pulled Damen into a quick hug, then led him aside, lowering his voice.
"I didn't have a chance to ask before," Lander said, his eyes searching. "Where is Ethen Lace now?"
Damen's smile was small and steady. "He's gone. No one will find him."
Lander let out a breath that sounded like relief. "Good. That's good."
The door slammed open with a bang that rattled the cracked glass pane.
A man stumbled inside, his coat half-buttoned, his face pale and slick with sweat.
"Is there a detective here?" he shouted, his voice quivering between panic and urgency. "We—we have a case for you!"
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