The three requests blinked on the screen.
Victor Moretti.
Dimitri Vassiliou.
Alex Blackwood.
Three empires.
Three men who once decided the fate of cities now waiting for permission.
From her.
Lena didn’t answer immediately.
Power was never in the first move.
It was in the pause before it.
Noah watched the monitors quietly, chin resting in his palm.
“They look nervous,” he said.
She almost smiled.
“They should be.”
She tapped a key.
Instead of granting access, she opened a secure conference channel — video disabled, voice only.
Neutral ground.
Controlled space.
Her rules.
She pressed CONNECT.
Three lines opened at once.
Silence filled the channel.
No one spoke first.
Good.
They understood.
“Good evening,” Lena said calmly.
Victor broke first. “You’ve made your poin
