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The morning light filtering through the opulent drapes painted the room in hues of deception, mirroring the turmoil within me. Zephyr stood by the window, her silhouette sharp against the cityscape, her voice a chilling counterpoint to the symphony of the city waking up.

"Today, Ben," she announced, her eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of triumph and cruelty, "we deliver the final blow to Olivera."

My insides clenched. Zephyr, fueled by the evidence I had reluctantly provided, was about to confront Olivera, not just to expose his corruption, but to publicly humiliate and destroy him. This wasn't justice, it was revenge cloaked in righteousness, and the melody within me screamed in discord.

"Zephyr," I pleaded, my voice hoarse with apprehension, "exposing him is one thing, but this… this public spectacle, it's not what we agreed to."

Her smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of doubt crossing her face before she schooled her expression back into its usual mask of control. "
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