Page 4 — The Five Minutes That Destroyed Him
Mark snapped into survival mode.
He grabbed the microphone on the stage—because weak men always reach for volume when they lose control.
“Everyone—listen,” he said, laughing too hard. “This is… a misunderstanding. Elena’s always had a quirky sense of humor. Arthur is… being respectful. It’s some kind of—”
“Stop,” I said.
One word. Quiet. Final.
Mark froze mid-sentence.
Sterling took a phone from one of his executives. He didn’t announce what it was. He simply plugged it into the ballroom’s AV system.
The big screen behind the stage lit up.
Mark’s email.
Not one email. A chain.
