The clock on the wall read 2:00 AM, but the executive floor was still ablaze with the hum of servers and the frantic, silent work of the night-shift strategists.
Elara hadn’t left her desk in six hours. She was staring at a cascade of red alerts on her monitor—a sudden, synchronized withdrawal of capital from two of our primary manufacturing partners. It wasn't a coincidence. It was a surgical strike, executed with the cold, ruthless precision that only someone with Fiona Sterling’s pedigree and resources could command.
She was bleeding the company dry, not through hacking or brute force, but through pure, unchecked financial leverage. She was using her family’s connections to strangle our supply chain, trying to prove that Elara Vance was incompetent, weak, and unworthy of the empire sh
