The city slept, but Leon Kingsley didn’t.
By 4:00 a.m., he was in the war room—a hidden space buried beneath Zenith Tower, accessible only via biometric clearance. Massive screens lit up the pitch-black chamber, each one tracking live feeds, encrypted messages, and financial tickers from across the globe. It wasn’t just a business hub—it was a battlefield.
Marvin entered silently, carrying a fresh report.
“Talk,” Leon commanded, not turning from the monitors.
“We traced the note back to an IP address masked under the Syndicore network,” Marvin said, laying the report on the central console. “They routed it through five dummy corporations, all linked to a holding company based in the Cayman Islands.”
Leon leaned back in the black leather chair, fingertips pressed together. “Someone wit
