Victor never raised his voice in the boardroom. He simply dimmed the lights, clicked the remote, and let the footage speak for itself.
Eighty inches of OLED filled with Serena on her knees in the elevator, mouth stretched around Cameron’s c**k, eyes locked on the camera like she was performing for an audience of one.
The audio was pristine: wet sounds, her moans, Cameron’s broken groan when he came down her throat.
Then the penthouse compilation: kitchen island, master bed, the balcony at dawn, every thrust and scream in 4K.
Victor paused on the final frame—Serena riding Cameron on the white cashmere throw, head thrown back, saying his name like a prayer while Victor’s own wedding photo watched from the mantel.
The board sat in stunned silence. Cameron stood at the far end of th
