365 DAYS OF CONTRACTUAL REVENGE

Sunlight, refracted on the glass surface of Eidelweiss Quinzel's office, cast a sharp silhouette of the woman who commanded the CuraMedica empire. On the top floor of the skyscraper, time seemed to move with deliberate serenity. Eidelweiss, clad in a perfectly tailored blazer, leaned back against her premium leather swivel chair. Her chocolate-brown hair, impeccably styled, framed a pair of hazel eyes currently scanning a quarterly financial report. Her concentration was intense; her gaze, sharp and measured, reflecting the calculated risks that had brought her to the pinnacle of the medical device industry. That expensive silence was abruptly shattered. The mahogany double doors to her office, which typically opened only by her permission, were forced wide with a violent shove. Elisa, her secretary, stumbled backward, her face a pale mix of shame and panic. She immediately attempted to block the unfamiliar figures barging in, her hands outstretched, pleading for them to stop. "Wait! You can't enter without an appointment! Ms. Quinzel is—" her voice choked. Eidelweiss did not move. She merely lifted her head, locking her gaze on the doorway. The expression on her face showed not surprise, but a cold, controlled fury at the blatant violation of her privacy. Three figures in dark suits entered the room. They moved with an undeniable authority, ignoring Elisa, who now stood helplessly. The leader of the group, a man with a square jaw and an emotionless stare, stepped forward. His hand moved swiftly to the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a thick leather wallet. "Metropolitan Police. We are from the Special Crimes Unit," he stated flatly, his voice carrying the silent resonance of power. He flashed the wallet open, revealing a gleaming silver badge that caught the light. Eidelweiss offered only a small nod, as if this interruption were merely an overdue appointment. "We are here to execute an arrest, Ms. Quinzel," the detective continued, wasting no breath. His eyes swept the room, as if searching for a hidden location for resistance. Eidelweiss, for the first time, lowered the document in her hand. Her long, clean fingers interlaced on the marble table. "On what grounds?" she asked, her voice low but as clear as ringing crystal, devoid of any emotional tremor. The detective sighed, as if reading a grocery list. "You, Eidelweiss Quinzel, are being apprehended on suspicion of corporate fund embezzlement from CuraMedica, falsification of corporate tax data, and a reported case of violence against a company employee involving your name." Eidelweiss Quinzel barely suppressed a cold, inner laugh as the Detective—whose badge identified him as Major Baskara—handed her a copy of the warrant. The legal paper looked stark against the expensive marble desk. Eidelweiss took it without hesitation. Her hazel eyes scanned paragraph after paragraph with astonishing speed, as though she were reviewing a sales memo, not criminal charges that threatened to collapse her career. The corner of her mouth twitched; not with amusement, but with profound insult. Major Baskara moved quickly, cutting through the deadly calm. He approached, his hand movements precise, pulling a pair of cold silver handcuffs from behind his back. "Ms. Quinzel, your hands," Baskara commanded, his voice now sharper. Eidelweiss ignored him. Instead, she lifted her chin, her gaze piercing. "Do you people truly know who you're arresting?" she asked, the suppressed laughter finally escaping, sounding sharp and mocking. "I am Eidelweiss Quinzel, CEO of CuraMedica. My decisions affect thousands of lives and tens of billions in national assets. Are you sure you want to humiliate yourselves with this clearly erroneous arrest?" Baskara held his ground. He grasped Eidelweiss's right wrist, adorned with white gold, and with a practiced motion, snapped the cold iron shut. Click. The metallic sound echoed harshly through the silent office. "Ms. Quinzel," Baskara interjected, holding Eidelweiss's now restrained wrist, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. I suggest you use it." Baskara moved to clamp the cuffs on Eidelweiss’s left wrist. Suddenly, Eidelweiss yanked her hand away with a powerful jerk, her face finally revealing emotion—a blazing fury. "I won't silence myself for this kind of garbage!" Eidelweiss snarled, struggling to pull free. Her partially cuffed wrist scraped against the metal, shifting the cuff. Baskara countered her movement with a grip of steel. "Be still, Ms. Quinzel," Baskara warned. "If you keep fighting, you could injure yourself with these handcuffs. We have no intention of harming you, but we will ensure this arrest takes place." The veiled threat worked. Eidelweiss froze. Her hazel eyes flashed with rage, but she complied. The handcuffs were secured perfectly, shackling the fingers that, only minutes ago, had signed contracts worth hundreds of millions. "Good," Baskara clipped out. "Let's go." Forcibly, flanked by the two other detectives, Eidelweiss Quinzel was marched toward the door. She walked straight, her back rigid—as if she were not a prisoner, but a queen bored and abandoning her kingdom. Elisa, the secretary, could only suppress a sob watching her boss intercepted by the law. The marble corridor of the CuraMedica main lobby instantly became a silent stage. Eidelweiss Quinzel’s firm footsteps, accompanied by the two detectives, drew every eye from the gathered employees who clustered, whispering, and staring in disbelief. The lobby’s automatic glass doors slid open, and outside, a small crowd of media waited, their cameras like the hungry eyes of a wolf pack. Yet, in the midst of the emerging chaos, a figure appeared from a distance. Joy El Nostra, staggering slightly and with a visibly messy tie, sprinted across the lobby. His face was pale, his eyes wide with palpable alarm. "My darling! Darling!" he called out, his voice ragged. He bulldozed through the cluster of reporters, ignoring the thrusting microphones. Eidelweiss halted. Her cold gaze softened when she saw her husband. The emotion engulfing Joy seemed utterly real, a dramatic contrast to Eidelweiss's own deadly composure. Joy arrived right in front of Eidelweiss, breathless. He tried to reach for his wife's cuffed hands, but one of the detectives politely but firmly blocked him. "Stay back, Sir. You are not allowed to approach," the detective stated. Eidelweiss’s eyes never left Joy's face. "Joy, listen to me," she said, her voice calm. "This is all a misunderstanding. I need a fiercely competent lawyer, the best you can find. Immediately." Joy nodded, stammering. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "I... I will do it. I'll find the best one. I promise, my love." Eidelweiss nodded again, full trust radiating from her hazel eyes. "I know you will." Baskara, the Major Detective, opened the back door of a waiting black car. Without resistance, Eidelweiss climbed in, and the door was shut. Eidelweiss gazed out the window, holding Joy's gaze until the car pulled forward. Joy stood rooted, watching the car speed away, slowly vanishing from sight. The swarm of reporters now surrounded him, firing a barrage of questions. Joy offered no answer. He simply raised his hand to his eyes, as if wiping away streaming tears. But the tears were never there. As soon as he felt safely out of public scrutiny, a look of profound satisfaction, almost a snarl, spread across his lips. The smile reflected not sorrow, but triumph. He pulled his cell phone from his trousers pocket, and his steady fingers typed a short message. He sent the text to a contact he had labeled Darling. "Our plan succeeded. The queen has fallen."