It was a complete work of character assassination, assembled in advance: Sena had supplied the staged video, Marius supplied the narrative, and together, in ninety seconds, they established my madness and my betrayal in front of every investor, board member, and judge in the city.

“Security,” Marius said, cold now, done.

“Please help my wife.

She needs care.” Two guards took my arms.

I did not fight them.

They walked me down the center aisle, past the staring faces, past Sena’s small triumphant smile, and out through the tall glass doors into the rain.