Her stomach clenched.
“But the pills, the girl… the wall.”
Lena pulled up Rusty’s social media. Middle-aged, bitter, with the desperate eyes of a man who’d bet his future on a star who outgrew him. He’d been in Cassian’s inner circle for five years. That meant he had the originals. These weren’t hacks. They were betrayal. bravo bodycheck pics
Silence. Then a wet, shaky exhale. “They’ll laugh at me.”
“Flood the zone?”
“You’re Cassian Bravo. You have sixteen million followers. In one hour, you’re going to post a picture of yourself right now. No makeup, no filter, sitting on your sad beige couch in that ratty hoodie. And the caption is going to be: ‘Bodycheck pics? Here’s a real one. Yeah, I’ve been messy. Yeah, I’ve been sad. But I’m still here. And nobody—nobody—extorts my family.’ ”
“They’ll respect you,” Lena said. “While you’re doing that, I’m calling the FBI. Rusty crossed state lines with those images—that’s interstate extortion. I already have his IP from the email.” Her stomach clenched
It was the subject line of an email from an anonymous ProtonMail address. No text, just a link to a password-protected folder.