The introduction of the "Spider Silk" was like dropping a match into a pool of gasoline. By Monday morning, the atmosphere at Sterling Textiles had shifted from the somber tone of a funeral to the electric hum of a high-stakes laboratory. Riana didn't just walk through the halls; she glided, the sheer weight of the golden fabric in her hands giving her a sense of purpose that no betrayal could dampen.
Albert remained her shadow. He had traded his hoodie for a dark charcoal sweater that made him look slightly more professional, though the way he scanned every corner suggested he was still more warrior than architect.
"No one enters without your thumbprint or mine," he told her as he installed a biometric lock on the design studio door. "If Antonio gets a sample of this thread before the G
