Gem Group headquarters. Monday morning. The gleaming glass walls of the executive floor reflected the cold, clinical energy of a company trying to regain control after chaos. Everyone in the corridor lowered their gaze as Oliver strode past, his expression unreadable. His tailored suit was crisp, but his eyes were tired—darker, sharper.
He walked straight past his office and into the executive boardroom, where Rickard was standing by the window, speaking on the phone. Eleanor sat at the far end of the room, reviewing recovery reports. Both looked up as Oliver entered.
“ —I’ll call you back,” Rickard spoke into the phone.
He hung up, eyes narrowing at Oliver.
“You’re early. I was going to loop you in on the shareholder update in twenty minutes,” Rickard said to his brother.
Oliver was
