Serena’s POV
The penthouse is a hub of controlled tension, the evening light fading through the windows, casting a soft shadow across the hardwood floor strewn with staff rosters, Dr. Emily Tran’s personnel file, and the coded message from Grayson’s records. The air carries a faint hint of jasmine from my perfume, a lingering echo of the closeness with Adrian during our recent victories, though today’s focus shifts to the internal threat. I stand by the dining table, my navy suit exchanged for a practical olive-green jacket and trousers, my hair tied back, my fingers tracing the edge of a performance review—Emily’s resentment over my promotion decision glaring in red ink. The foundation for Emily’s memory, now a thriving initiative with the twins’ involvement, is my anchor, but Emily Tran
