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Saturday afternoon, Elly arrived at Niall's apartment to find him out. He'd texted her the door code earlier, saying he had a client meeting but would be back in an hour.

She let herself in and set up her laptop at his dining table.

She needed a specific email chain Niall had mentioned. Something about the marketing strategy for Dave's book. He'd told her it was in a folder labeled "Maxell, Publicity."

She opened his laptop, which he'd left out for her, and navigated to his files.

That was when she saw it.

A folder buried in the directory tree, dated two months before Dave's book deal. The folder name was just a string of numbers, which struck her as odd. Everything else was clearly labeled.

She shouldn't have opened it.

This wasn't part of the plan.

But curiosity and suspicion were powerful motivators, and Elly had learned not to ignore her instincts.

Inside the folder were email chains between Niall and Dave, starting eighteen months before publication.

Elly began to read.

With each message, her stomach dropped further.

The first email was from Dave, pitching his novel. The manuscript he described was different from what had been published. In his original vision, both characters were flawed. The breakup was mutual. No one was clearly the villain.

Niall's response made Elly's blood run cold.

The story has potential, but it needs a clearer antagonist. Readers need someone to blame. What if you reframe the narrative to make the ex-girlfriend more unstable? Give her actions that justify the breakup. Make her obsessive, manipulative. That way, your protagonist becomes sympathetic by default. It's a more commercial angle.

Dave's reply: Interesting idea. I have the text messages from our actual breakup. I could use those to build out her character, make it feel more authentic.

Niall: Perfect. Raw material like that always reads as genuine. Just change names and settings enough to avoid legal issues. People love autofiction right now.

The email chain continued, showing how they'd systematically constructed the narrative to villainize her.

Niall had suggested specific scenes. Had helped Dave shape the stolen texts into damning evidence of her instability.

He hadn't just published a lie.

He'd architected it.

There was more. Emails discussing how to market the book. How to position Dave as a wounded artist. How to play up the emotional honesty angle. Niall had even suggested which interviews Dave should do, which questions he should anticipate, how to make his victimhood feel authentic.

This wasn't guilt.

This was calculation.

Elly heard the front door open.

She quickly closed the laptop and pulled out her own computer, trying to look casual. Her heart pounded so hard she thought Niall would hear it.

"Sorry I'm late," Niall said, dropping his bag by the door. "The meeting ran long. Did you find that email about the marketing strategy?"

"Not yet. I was just about to look." Elly's voice sounded normal, which surprised her.

Inside, she was screaming.

Niall walked to the kitchen and started making coffee. "I was thinking about the timeline for the blog leak. I think we should wait another week. Let the exposé get a bit more polished first."

"Sure. Whatever you think is best." Elly watched him move around the kitchen.

This man she'd started to trust. This man who had engineered her public destruction.

He wasn't helping her out of guilt.

He was controlling the narrative again, trying to absolve himself or destroy Dave for reasons she didn't yet understand. Maybe they'd had a falling out. Maybe Dave had somehow betrayed him. Maybe Niall just wanted to be the hero of a new story.

It didn't matter.

What mattered was that he'd played her just as thoroughly as she thought she was playing him.

"You okay?" Niall asked, bringing her coffee. "You look pale."

"Just tired. We've been working on this for weeks." She took the coffee and smiled. "I think I need a break."

"We're almost there. Just a little longer." He sat down across from her. "This is going to work, Elly. We're going to make Dave pay for what he did."

"Yes," Elly said. "We are."

But now she knew she was making both of them pay.

She stayed for another hour, acting normal, discussing the exposé as if nothing had changed. When she finally left, she took the flash drive with all the files.

Niall didn't notice.

He trusted her now.

That was his mistake.

Back in her own apartment, Elly sat in the dark and thought through her options.

She could confront Niall, but that would tip her hand. She could walk away from the whole plan, but that meant Dave won.

Or she could do what she'd always planned to do.

Take control of the narrative herself.

She opened her laptop and began to write.

Not the exposé she and Niall had been crafting together, but something new. Something that would expose both men for what they really were.

If Niall wanted to manipulate her story, she'd give him a story he never saw coming. One where he wasn't the reformed editor seeking redemption, but the puppet master who had orchestrated her destruction from the beginning.

Elly worked through the night, adrenaline replacing sleep.

By dawn, she had the framework of a new plan.

It was riskier than the original. More complicated.

But it was hers.

And this time, she wasn't trusting anyone but herself.

She pulled up the email from The Atlantic journalist and began typing.

I need to meet. I have evidence that will change everything you think you know about this story.

The response came immediately.

When and where?