Ethan hadn't slept.
After the meetup fallout, he'd spent most of the night staring at the city lights, nursing an untouched cup of chamomile tea. Betrayal had a strange texture—it didn't feel sharp, but hollow. Like someone had scooped out a piece of his center.
By morning, his inbox was flooded again.
This time, not with praise.
Storm in the Community
Half the community forum had erupted overnight. A thread titled "Is This Platform Being Sold?" had gone viral.
Just heard a rumor that the Restart platform is being commercialized behind the scenes. Anyone else feel uneasy?Daniel was trying to pitch me something in DMs—this is so unprofessional.Feels like a bait-and-switch.
Ethan's chest tightened.
He immediately posted a statement clarifying the situation: Daniel was not affiliated with the platform, his access had been revoked, and Ethan personally took full responsibility for the breach.
But the damage was done.
People were leaving.
Even worse—some weren't just leaving. They were starting to talk.
The Leak
Marco hadn't spoken to Ethan since their fight. But now his name appeared again—in a forwarded email from a member:
I know Ethan's trying to save face. But honestly, Marco told me weeks ago they were pitching Restart to angel investors already. Just ask him yourself.
Ethan stared at the screen, stunned.
Marco… pitching the platform?
Without him?
He checked the platform's shared Google Drive.
A folder had been created just three weeks ago:📁 "Pitch Decks – Private"
It was locked.
Password protected.
Not by Ethan.
The Confrontation
Ethan drove to Marco's apartment. No texts. No warning.
Marco opened the door in pajamas, surprised. "Ethan?"
"You pitched our platform to investors?"
Marco's eyes widened. "Wait—how did you—"
"You did, didn't you?"
"I was testing interest! Exploring options!"
"Without telling me?"
Marco opened his mouth. Closed it. Then finally whispered, "I didn't think you'd say yes."
Ethan took a step back. The truth hit harder than anger.
"You never trusted me."
Marco looked down. "I believed in the mission. But I thought… maybe it needed someone else to lead."
Silence.
Then Ethan turned around and walked away.
The Letter
That night, as Ethan shut down his laptop, he found something odd in the mailbox: a plain white envelope, no return address.
Inside was a single folded page.
Typed. Anonymous.
You're building something bigger than you understand.Not everyone wants you to succeed.Watch the ones closest to you.You're already being watched.
Ethan froze.
His heart pounded.
He read it again.
Then again.
Was it a joke? A threat? A warning?
No name. No hint.
Only fear.
And curiosity.
He looked out the window.
Was someone really watching?