VERITAS: BETTER THAN NEVER

In the heart of Sterling City, a solitary skyscraper pierced the skyline, visually dominating every structure around it. No one could miss the massive logo fixed to its front: VERITAS, written in blazing gold. VERITAS was known as the most prominent and powerful force in Sterling City's fashion world; few rivals dared to challenge its dominance. The single most astonishing fact, however, was its founder. Arya Brown was a young woman who built this empire. In an industry notoriously built on inherited wealth and favors, Arya seized her success with zero outside help. She became a billionaire before the age of twenty-six—a towering achievement. How many men, or women for that matter, could boast a record like that. It was a beautiful morning, as usual, in Sterling City. The sun rose over the horizon, casting its gentle, warm glow over the entire cityscape and giving its citizens a spectacular view. People woke up and started their daily routines. But for Arya Brown, this beautiful day was the moment her trouble began. In front of the VERITAS headquarter, two people stood, their backs perfectly straight. A young woman in her mid-thirties and a man who was definitely over forty were discussing something in quiet, serious tones. Soon, a luxurious car pulled to a silent stop right in front of them. The two immediately stopped talking and moved slightly closer to the vehicle. Gracefully but quickly, a man emerged from the driver's side, opened the passenger door, and offered a slight bow, then a lady step out. She possessed a beauty that leaned toward the poised and mature, carrying the quiet confidence of a woman who had earned her place. Her dark, long hair was a natural contrast to the morning; it glimmered as the sun's first rays caught it, moving with a silk-like grace as she adjusted the clothes of her average height. The two people standing by the entrance—the young woman and the older man—straightened further. They greeted her with small bows and a respectful, "Miss Brown," to which Arya only gave a simple smile and a nod. She then turned to the driver. "Please meet with Mrs. Karen later to get my schedule for the day." Mrs. Karen—the young woman in her mid-thirties who also served as Arya's secretary—acknowledged the instruction with a curt nod. Arya did not wait for a response, moving with purposeful strides toward the towering gold doors of VERITAS. As she walked, her secretary, Mrs. Karen, and the other man followed close behind. The two security guards at the large gold doors opened them with perfect synchronization. Arya stepped into the lobby, a vast space of polished, imported marble and silent power. The ceiling soared three stories high, topped by a glass dome that let in the clean, morning light. Everything here—the black granite security desk, the soaring chrome pillars, the two-story display case featuring a single, untouchable gown—spoke of pure, concentrated wealth. It was beautiful, sterile, and utterly unforgiving. Immediately, Mrs. Karen launched into the day's briefing. "Miss Brown, we have a significant issue with the new cosmetics branch project. The budget is stalled. Our funding partner has not responded to calls or emails, and the entire production timeline is now delayed." She continued without a breath. "The supervisor in charge failed to report this problem promptly, which has caused bottlenecks in all the preceding minor works. Worst of all, the number of workplace casualties has risen, and we have intelligence that workers are discussing a protest. They believe their risk compensation is too low." Arya processed the words while maintaining her pace, walking straight toward the bank of private elevators. She turned slightly to the other man, Mr. Harry, and asked, "Are all executives present in the meeting hall?" "Yes," Mr. Harry confirmed instantly. He added, his voice strained, "To add to what Mrs. Karen has said, some major business partners have also requested an emergency meeting." This made Arya stop. She turned, her gaze sharp, and asked, "Why?" Mrs. Karen immediately replied, her expression blank. "The agenda is mostly unknown, Miss Brown." Arya let out a slow, controlled sigh. She didn't press further, simply turned back toward the private elevator reserved for the CEO. She entered the glass car, the doors sliding shut as she turned back to face the door. Mr Harry gently pressed the highest floor before standing again at her back with Mrs Karen.