The departure of Arthur Sterling was not a quiet affair. In the world of high finance, a "resignation for personal reasons" at 3:00 AM was the corporate equivalent of a public execution. By the time the sun began to bleed over the Atlantic, the news tickers were already vibrating with the shockwave. Arthur hadn’t just left; he had been erased. His keycard was deactivated before he reached the lobby, and his digital footprint within the Thorne servers was being systematically scrubbed by a forensic team led by Marcus. Elara stood in the breakfast nook, watching the city wake up. The tension from the night before still sat in her marrow, a cold residue that no amount of caffeine could wash away. Julian was already at the head of the long mahogany table, three phones lined up in front of hi

