The boardroom of Garrett Automotive had never felt so small.
Reed stood at the far end of the polished obsidian table, watching his father sign away another twenty-three percent of the company to Blackwood Holdings. Marcus's pen moved with mechanical precision, the ink glowing faintly crimson before it dried to ordinary black. Every director present had the same hollow gleam in their eyes, the same faint smell of brimstone clinging to their thousand-dollar suits.
Across the city, the war was fought with stock tickers instead of swords.
Reed's phone buzzed against his thigh. A single message from Laken:
'1 Factory 3 just went dark.
2 They're stripping the prototype line.
3 Agnetha's people are inside.'
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and forced his voice to stay level. “D
