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Exactly nine days later, the autumn rain was light in downtown D.C., a soft curtain falling over the bustling streets. I stood on a sidewalk, [more…]

Over the next 48 hours, the silent dismantling of Julian De Witt’s empire continued. Moretti’s network moved with surgical precision. It wasn’t a public seizure; [more…]

Ten minutes before the live debate broadcast was scheduled to begin, a young campaign aide, his face ashen, stepped onto the main stage where the [more…]

Julian finally saw Moretti. His face, moments before contorted with rage, went completely slack. All the bluster drained out of him, leaving him pale and [more…]

I stood my ground in the narrow hallway, the cacophony of the convention center a dull roar through the closed doors. Julian’s furious tirade continued, [more…]

The D.C. Convention Center was a maelstrom of activity, even for a high-stakes debate. News crews bustled, volunteers rushed, and a palpable tension hung in [more…]

The next day dawned with a chaotic intensity. It was the day of Julian’s live televised debate at the D.C. Convention Center, the biggest event [more…]

Moretti moved with a speed and efficiency that would make any federal agency green with envy. Less than twelve hours after our meeting, his covert [more…]

The steakhouse in Old Town Alexandria was discreet, its brass-and-dark-wood interior exuding an old-money quietness. At exactly nine, I was escorted past the main dining [more…]

Julian wasn’t finished. His smear campaign escalated, moving beyond mere whispers. A local D.C. political blog, known for its unattributed leaks, published a short, venomous [more…]