Desislava’s place turned out to be a small, dilapidated villa in the mountains, an hour’s drive from the city. It belonged to her grandfather and no one had set foot there in years. We traveled at night in her old, battered car, on dirt roads, to avoid any cameras or checks.
The villa was primitive – no electricity, no running water, but I felt safer there than in my luxurious apartment. Desislava left me food, water, a lantern and an old prepaid phone, the number of which only she knew.
“Don’t turn it on unless it’s absolutely necessary,” she warned me. “I’ll work on the story. It will take me a few days to prepare everything and synchronize it with my colleagues from abroad. When everything is ready, I’ll come and get you. Until then – don’t move from here.
And she left. I was left alone with my thoughts and the deafening silence of the mountain. The first days were the hardest. Every broken branch, every howl of the wind made me jump. I expected at any moment the door to open and the man with the expressionless eyes to enter.
But gradually I began to calm down. Away from the city, from the lies and intrigues, I began to think more soberly. I went back, analyzing my marriage to Peter. When did it all start? When did he change from the dreamer I fell in love with to this cold, calculating businessman? Maybe the change was slow, gradual, and I just didn't want to see it. I had gotten carried away by the comfort, the security that money provided him, and I had closed my eyes to the price we were paying.
I also thought about my decision. Had I done the right thing? I betrayed him. There was no other way to call it. But maybe sometimes betraying a person is a manifestation of loyalty to yourself, to your own principles.
On the third day, I briefly turned on the phone that Desi left me. There was a message from her: "It's done. Tomorrow morning at 8:00. Be strong."
My heart started beating wildly. Tomorrow. Tomorrow everything would change forever.
The next morning, at exactly eight o'clock, the Internet exploded. Desislava's story, under the title "THE TITANS OF CORRUPTION", appeared simultaneously on the website of her media and on the pages of several leading European publications. It was a true masterpiece of investigative journalism. Desi had not only used the documents from the folder, but had supported them with additional evidence, interviews with former employees, expert analyses.
She had unraveled the entire web – from Ivaylo and Petar, through the corrupt officials, to the political umbrella that had protected them. The scandal was monstrous. The phones in state institutions overheated. The prosecutor's office, pressed by enormous public and international pressure, was forced to act.
