“You planned this,” he whispered.

“I protected myself,” I corrected. “There is a difference.”

I turned toward the elevator.

“Ava, please,” he said.

I stopped but did not turn around.

“If you walk out of here today, the press will have a field day,” he said.

“They already are,” I said.

I pressed the call button for the elevator.

The soft chime echoed in the hallway.

“They are calling me the brave survivor,” I said. “And they are calling you the blind king.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “To ruin me?”

“I don’t want anything from you, Elias,” I said. “That is what you don’t understand.”

The elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside and turned to face him.

He stood in the center of his massive office, surrounded by dark wood and expensive art.

He looked incredibly lonely.

“Good luck with the board,” I said.

The doors began to slide shut.

Just before they closed, Elias’s personal desk phone began to ring.

It was a sharp, demanding sound that cut through the silence.

The caller ID on the desk console flashed in bright red letters.