“This doesn’t make sense…” Adrian muttered, eyes locked on the glow of his laptop screen. The room was dim, the only light coming from the monitor that reflected the tension etched across his face. His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up the digital files—the very photos that had dragged Deviana into disgrace.

One by one, he opened them. He zoomed in on details, scanned metadata, cross-checked timestamps. He wasn’t an IT expert, but thanks to a cyber-forensics contact, he’d gained access to a preliminary digital report.

“The timestamps don’t match,” he whispered, his eyes narrowing. “Editing markers everywhere… and the GPS data is wrong. Someone’s been playing dirty.”

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