The Omega and The Arrogant Alpha (by Kylie) novel Chapter 326

Ben shakes his head once. “They asked me to do this.”

“I know,” I say.

The spokesperson finishes their statement with a familiar cadence, one that signals closure while implying ongoing authority.

“We ask the public to trust established processes,” they conclude. “And to understand that accountability requires patience.”

The feed ends.

The operations floor hums with restrained noise, conversations erupting in low clusters, eyes flicking toward me and then away again as people process what they just watched, and I feel the weight of the moment settle in, because this is not confusion, this is division.

“They’re going to push this everywhere,” Sally says. “Clipped. Context stripped.”

“Yes,” I reply. “And if I respond immediately, they’ll say I’m reactive.”

“And if you don’t,” Ben adds, “they’ll say it confirms their concern.”

I nod, because the trap is obvious now.

“Then we do neither,” I say.

Sally looks up. “What does that mean.”

“It means we correct the record without arguing with them,” I reply. “We show, not counter.”

Ben studies my face. “How.”

I look back at the screen, at the frozen image of the spokesperson’s composed concern, and something sharp and steady clicks into place.

“We release the uncut footage,” I say.

Sally’s eyes widen. “That includes internal angles.”

“Yes.”

“That will expose security protocols.”

“Only the ones they just misrepresented,” I reply. “And we redact faces that need protection.”

Ben’s voice is careful. “They’ll accuse you of escalating again.”

“They already have,” I say. “The difference is this time they won’t be able to lie cleanly.”

Sally hesitates, then nods slowly. “I can prep it.”

“Do not rush,” I say. “Accuracy over speed.”

She exhales once and moves, already pulling feeds and timestamps, because she understands what matters here is sequence and sound and the absence of narration.

Ben shifts closer. “Once it’s out, they lose plausible deniability.”

“Yes,” I reply. “Which means they’ll pivot.”

“To what,” he asks.

“Discipline,” I say. “Or force.”

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