Phyllis never intended to end her night slouched over a half-finished bourbon at the Athletic Club, yet that’s exactly where she landed. Kane’s cold dismissal—sharper and more humiliating than she had prepared for—sent her spiraling into the only escape she could grasp in the moment: isolation and alcohol. She had walked into their meeting believing she still carried influence, still had the wit and strategic edge that once made her indispensable. Instead, Kane shut her down with an icy resolve that reminded her far too much of Victor’s shadowy control.

The sting of rejection clung to her, mingling with the humiliation of realizing she had overestimated her power. She could feel Victor’s influence hovering over Kane, quietly tugging the strings. The thought sent her into a familiar pit of resentment—at herself, at Victor, at the constant manipulation that seemed to haunt every attempt she made to regain her footing. The bourbon in her glass wasn’t indulgence; it was armor against the chaos attacking her from the inside.

Across the room, Holden Novak drifted in with the same heaviness dragging behind him. Days of emotional turmoil had left him worn down, and seeing Claire gravitate back toward Kyle had hollowed him out. Every effort he had made to support her seemed to crumble the instant she slipped back into Kyle’s orbit. Worse still, Audra’s constant reminders of the secrets they shared—the kind of secrets sharp enough to shred careers—pressed against him like a tightening vise.

Looking for escape, Holden gravitated toward the bar, hoping the burn of a drink might drown out the noise. Fate, however, seated him beside the one person unravelling just as fast. Phyllis recognized the despair in his eyes immediately—it mirrored her own. They didn’t plan to talk, but misery has a way of finding company, and soon their silence cracked open under the weight of shared despair.

The alcohol softened their edges, loosened their words, and gave them the illusion of safety. Holden spoke first, hinting at heartbreak without naming names, enough for Phyllis to feel the pain behind his guard. When it was her turn, her restraint dissolved. She admitted Kane’s rejection had cut deep, reopening wounds she thought she’d outgrown. And then—without intending to—she revealed far more.

Somewhere between her second and third drink, Phyllis confessed that she had passed Kane’s AI project to Victor. She tried to justify it, claiming necessity, claiming protection, but the truth was obvious even in her rambling state. She didn’t say who she was protecting or why, but the implication was dangerous enough. Holden, despite his own haze, absorbed every word. A spark of clarity ignited—Phyllis had just exposed something monumental.

The night eventually blurred into a quiet collapse of two people grasping for momentary warmth. Their connection wasn’t romantic or passionate. It was the kind of closeness born of loneliness—temporary, numb, and ultimately regrettable.

Morning arrived like punishment. Phyllis woke first, the sting of regret settling before her eyes even opened. Holden stirred beside her, equally disoriented, but his memory remained sharp enough to replay her confession. As he reached for his jacket, his fingers brushed something tucked inside: a small recorder. He pressed play, and Phyllis’s drunken voice spilled out—confessing everything with horrifying clarity.

This wasn’t rumor. It wasn’t speculation. It was evidence.

As Holden replayed the recording, his mindset shifted. For months he had been dismissed, cornered, underestimated. But this? This was leverage—dangerous, valuable leverage. Phyllis had unintentionally given him a weapon powerful enough to destabilize Victor, embarrass Kane, or upend the delicate balance between Newman and Jabot. AI wasn’t just a business tool anymore. It was becoming the city’s most volatile currency.

Holden immediately calculated how this confession could reshape the corporate landscape. Audra, who had been pressuring him with past secrets, suddenly became the first person he needed to confront. He arranged a discreet meeting and played a short portion of the recording. The shock in her eyes said everything. She understood the potential fallout instantly: investigations, fractured alliances, buried scandals bursting to the surface.

Holden wasn’t merely threatening her—he was offering a transaction. She would help elevate him into a powerful position in exchange for his silence. The deal wasn’t emotional; it was survival.

Audra didn’t panic, but she also didn’t pretend this was trivial. She saw what Holden had become: a man holding a truth explosive enough to reshape the city’s balance of power.

As Holden walked away from the meeting, one cold truth settled in: the real danger wasn’t their night together—it was the secret Phyllis had let slip. A secret that now tied all of them to a storm about to break over Genoa City.