It started with a missing file.
A small thing. A harmless oversight—on the surface.
Amelia tapped through Hawke Industries’ encrypted database, searching for the quarterly logistics report that was usually bookmarked.
Nothing.
She frowned, refreshed—still nothing.
Then another file—Q3 supplier agreements—vanished before her eyes.
“Lila,” she whispered, hitting her phone. “Someone’s pulling files in real time. Sensitive ones. Procurement, internal audits—gone.”
Lila’s voice sharpened. “You’re being cleaned. Digital bleach. That’s an inside job.”
Amelia’s stomach dropped. “She planted someone here.”
Across the city, Seraphina reclined in a red leather armchair, glass of champagne in hand. On the wall-sized screen before her, a digital trace pulsed—one line of code after another, van
