20-Year-Old Apprentice Jeweler Rebuilding His Life Uncovers a $400 Million Oil Tax Evasion Microchip Inside a Sapphire, Exposed by His Boss Who Arms His Estranged Family Against Him
The revelation hit Marcus like a physical blow. Nia Washington, the crusading journalist, was nothing but a corporate extortionist. It made a sickening kind of sense. The way she’d pushed for the full, unencrypted chip, her eagerness to “help” him expose the truth.
Devonte swore under his breath beside him. “We gotta stop her.”
There was no time to lose. Marcus knew Nia would be at her press office, finalizing the deal Chatman had described. They sped through downtown Atlanta, ignoring traffic laws, the urgency a palpable thing in the small sedan.
They burst into Nia’s office just as she was on the phone, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. She looked up, startled, as Marcus and Devonte entered. She quickly ended the call.
“Marcus! What a surprise. I was just about to—” she began, but Marcus cut her off.
“You were about to sell it, weren’t you?” he accused, holding up the flash drive. “Sell all of it back to the oil board. For a payout. And leave me holding the bag.”
Nia’s smile vanished. Her eyes hardened, a flicker of cold calculation replacing her earlier warmth. “Don’t be ridiculous, Marcus. I was getting ready to publish.”
“No, you weren’t,” Marcus said, his voice flat. “Chatman told us everything.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. He pulled out his own small, sturdy laptop, which he’d carried everywhere since leaving Dupree’s, and plugged the flash drive into it. Nia watched, her expression shifting from anger to alarm.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, stepping forward.
“I’m giving the people what they need,” Marcus said, typing rapidly. He ignored her attempts to grab his arm. He navigated to an open-source repository, a public data-sharing site he’d learned about online.
He hit ‘upload.’ The progress bar began to fill.
“No!” Nia shrieked, lunging for the laptop. Devonte stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“It’s too late,” Marcus said, watching the bar reach 100%. “It’s all out there now. Every name, every number. Free for the world to see.”
He closed the laptop with a definitive click. Nia stared at him, her face a mask of fury and defeated ambition. Her multi-million dollar payout was gone. Her leverage, gone. She grabbed her bag, her movements frantic, and without another word, she fled the office.
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