I leaned back into the plush leather of the executive chair, an artifact of the previous regime that felt increasingly like it belonged to me. I didn't say a word; I simply adjusted my posture, spreading my legs slightly to accommodate the growing tension. It was a silent invitation, a display of dominance that I had grown surprisingly comfortable with over the last few days.
The head accountant, Sarah—or "Auntie Jennifer" as she was known among the older staff at Longroad Logistics—looked at me, her face flushed with a deep, encroaching crimson. She cast a furtive, paranoid glance toward the office door. The warehouse yard was nearly deserted now, the frantic daytime energy replaced by the long shadows of the late afternoon. The elderly security guard at the gate had long since retreated
