The second meeting did not take place in a boardroom.
That alone told Elara everything she needed to know.
The car dropped her in front of a private estate just beyond the city limits, the kind of property that didn’t advertise ownership because it didn’t need to. Stone walls. Controlled entry. Security that didn’t look like security.
Power that preferred witnesses who understood silence.
She stepped out alone.
No driver waited. No instructions followed.
Inside, the house was quiet in a way that felt intentional rather than empty. Every sound—her footsteps, the faint echo of doors closing behind her—seemed measured, recorded, remembered.
She was led to a sitting room overlooking a garden designed for observation rather than beauty. Three people waited.
Only one of them stood when s
