Brielle POV
I couldn’t sleep after the boardroom meeting. My fingers still tingled from the adrenaline, my mind restless with the implications of what we had discovered. Sean Mitchell had stolen from the Avanzinis. The same man who once tucked me into bed with bedtime stories had filed off serial numbers and copied someone else’s innovation—mine.
And now, ironically, I was the one helping to take him down.
The moonlight spilled across my desk, sketching long shadows over the blueprints of SMIT’s interface and the original Avanzini design I’d laid side by side. My analysis from earlier was still scrawled in red ink across the margins. I stared at the lines, the mirrored code structures, the duplicated API threads, the unmistakable trace of theft—and of Sean.
There was a knock at the doo
