(LANCE )
The penthouse conference room felt heavier than usual as the late afternoon sun cast long golden beams across the mahogany table. The ankle monitor on my leg gave its familiar soft chime with every shift in my chair, a constant electronic heartbeat marking the strict boundaries of house arrest. The air carried the clean scent of lemon polish from the compliance team’s recent visit, the rich aroma of fresh coffee, and the subtle floral notes of Eliona’s tea as she sat beside me, her hand resting lightly on my knee beneath the table — a quiet anchor in the growing storm.
Ms. Reyes appeared on the large screen for the emergency review, her expression sharper than before. Two assistants flanked her, notepads ready. “Mr. Bistros, we’ve received multiple reports of increased recruitme
