Page 62 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

"The speed at which society embraces destruction while eschewing verification is deeply troubling," a social media expert comments, her credentials identifying her as a Harvard professor of Digital Ethics. "Everyone rushes to be part of the trending conversation, but few stop to question its validity. Thedopamine hit of participating in public shamming overrides our responsibility to truth."

The scene shifts to live footage outside Leighton University's gates, where hundreds of students have gathered. But instead of angry protests, they're holding supportive signs: #JusticeForDomino, #LeightonStandsTogether, #TruthPrevails.

"The change in public sentiment has been dramatic," the reporter narrates over crowd shots. "Multiple GoFundMe campaigns have raised over $2.5 million collectively to help Mr. Leighton rebuild his life. Petitions demanding his reinstatement at Leighton University have garnered hundreds of thousands of signatures, with prominent alumni threatening to withdraw donations if the administration doesn't comply."

Domino's breathing grows uneven as the camera pans across familiar faces in the crowd – teammates, classmates, people who'd condemned him hours earlier now chanting his name in support.

"Perhaps most significantly," the reporter continues, "we're seeing major reversals from professional organizations. The NHL teams that initially distanced themselves from Mr. Leighton are now actively competing for his attention. The New York Rangers' general manager released a statement calling him 'exactly the kind of resilient character we want representing our organization.'"

"How..." Domino starts, then stops, seemingly unable to process the complete reversal of his fortune.

"However," the reporter's tone grows more somber, "questions remain about the lasting impact of such an incident. How does one recover from having the world turn against them, even briefly? What scars remain when you've witnessed how quickly society will believe the worst about you?"

The camera returns to the studio, where the reporter faces it directly. "In less than 24 hours, Domino Leighton experienced total character assassination followed by complete vindication. But the deeper question remains: in an age where technology can make anything appear real, and social media can destroy lives in minutes, how do we protect ourselves from becoming the next target? And more importantly, how do we as a society learn to verify before we crucify?"

Marcus finally moves, clicking off the television and plunging the room into relative darkness. For several long moments, no one speaks. The only sounds are the steady beep of monitors and Domino's slightly ragged breathing.

"Marcus," I break the silence first, studying his carefully neutral expression. "What did you do?"

But before he can answer, Hannah's voice comes through my earpiece, soft but clear: "He did exactly what our Queen requested – gave society a narrative they could believe, a villain they could blame, and a redemption story they could celebrate."

I look at Domino, seeing the same realization dawn in his eyes. This wasn't just damage control – this was Eva's plan all along.

Break him completely, then offer a path to redemption that binds him even more tightly to her service.

The true question is: does he understand just how masterfully he's been played?

Marcus breaks the weighted silence that followed the news broadcast, turning away from the darkened television with calculated precision.

His movement carries that clinical grace he's perfected over years in operating rooms – each gesture measured, nothing wasted. The look he gives them now is the same one he uses when studying particularly complex pathology slides: analytical, searching, slightly unsettling in its intensity.

"Having you two in the same room is a legitimate mindfuck," he finally says, his words carrying genuine fascination beneath their casual delivery. A slight smirk plays at his lips as he adds, "Though Matteo's definitely more handsome."

"Fuck off," Domino snaps, but the words emerge hollow, exhausted. The news broadcast seems to have drained what little energy he had left, leaving him slumped in the expensive armchair like a puppet with cut strings. Dark circles beneath his eyes speak of more than physical fatigue – the kind of bone-deep weariness that comes from watching your world implode and rebuild itself in the span of hours.

"Is that how you talk to the one who saved your ass faster than anyone else he's ever provided services for?" Marcus's voice carries an edge sharp enough to draw blood. His usual calm facade cracks slightly, revealing something darker beneath. "Do you have any idea how many favors I had to call in? How many people now own pieces of me because I needed this done immediately?"

The questions land like physical blows, making Domino sink further into himself. His hands – the same ones that held the gun so steady in that rain-soaked alley – tremble slightly as he runs them through his disheveled hair.

"Even if you did intervene first," he finally mutters, voice rough with something that might be shame, "it doesn't erase the fact that I've asked too many people for help. Made too many promises." A broken laugh escapes him. "The debts I've collected... I'm basically doomed to be hunted eventually." His eyes find Marcus's, carrying a desperate kind of hope. "Can't I just... call it off or something? There has to be a way out."

Matteo and Marcus exchange a look heavy with shared knowledge – the kind that comes from understanding exactly how their shadow world operates. The machines monitoringMatteo's vital signs seem to beep louder in the loaded silence, marking time like a countdown to something inevitable.

"No one in this society backs off from a deal," Matteo says quietly, each word carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "You can't run when you've made a deal with the devil."

"The devil has a name," Domino responds, something like genuine fear creeping into his voice. The admission seems to cost him physically, making him curl slightly inward. "The Blind One."

Marcus's clinical mask slips completely as he looks to Matteo, clearly expecting answers. "Speaking of which," he says carefully, moving closer to the bed, "during Ascension, when Eva dropped that name as our representative... the reaction was intense." His frown deepens. "Everyone seemed shocked. Scared, even."

"Who exactly is this person?" Domino sits up straighter despite his obvious exhaustion, something like desperate curiosity overtaking his fatigue. "Are they really more powerful than the founders? Than Mr. Leighton, Mr. Prescott, and Saint Joaquin?"

Both brothers turn to Matteo expectantly, but he remains silent, choosing his words with obvious care. The darkness beyond the windows seems to press closer, as if the night itself leans in to hear these dangerous revelations.

"All I know about The Blind One," he finally says, voice dropping almost to a whisper, "is that he was meant to be the founder of a fourth university."

"Was meant to be?" Marcus moves even closer, troubled by something in Matteo's tone. The scientist in him clearly senses a deeper truth waiting to be uncovered. "What happened?"

Domino's expression shifts from exhaustion to growing unease, clearly sensing the change in atmosphere. Thetemperature in the room seems to drop several degrees, though the environmental controls haven't changed.

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