The next morning, Sinclair boardroom was a battlefield dressed in cold steel and glass. It had witnessed empires rise and fall, careers destroyed and crowned, alliances formed and broken under the weight of strategy and ambition.
But today, something shifted the air, something no amount of money or power could control.
Celeste Laurent sat beside Damien Sinclair at the head of the long obsidian table, her presence commanding as much authority as the man beside her. She wore power like a second skin, the success of Resurgence wrapping her in a shield of public and critical validation no one at this table could ignore.
Around them, the board members whispered and exchanged tight-lipped glances, the echoes of last night’s headlines still reverberating.
The critics had declared the film an
