"What…?"
Before Dominic could even process what he meant, the living room's glass wall blinked, shimmered, and the playback started rolling.
The recording was crystal clear. The sound. The angles. Everything.
Leonardo standing stiff. Mug on his head.
Xavier's smug voice in the background: "Only twenty seconds left, Max."
Maximilian: "Nothing will happen."
Bang.
The bullet.
Leonardo's head whipping back. Body hitting the floor. Blood pooling.
And then… Xavier catching the mug and casually telling Max to be careful next time.
Dominic stood frozen.
Anyone with half a brain—or none at all—could see what the clip said: Maximilian shot Leonardo in the fucking head. On record. With motive. With intent. It didn't matter how panicked he looked after—it was over. If that footage went public, Maximilian was done. No academy, no future, no daddy to save him.
Maximilian finally found his voice, a broken rasp that barely cleared his throat. "What the hell— you recorded all of it?"
