The call came at 6:12 a.m.
Adrian never received personal calls that early unless something had already gone wrong.
He stepped onto the balcony outside his bedroom, the cool morning air sharp against his skin. Elena stirred behind him but didn’t wake fully.
“Yes,” he answered, voice low.
“It’s done,” his head of security said. “The Whitmore political fund just froze its joint venture negotiations. And… there’s something else.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Say it.”
“There’s a sealed complaint filed anonymously against Laurent International.”
Silence.
“What kind of complaint?”
“Financial misconduct. Offshore misallocation.”
Adrian’s expression didn’t change.
But his mind sharpened instantly.
“Anonymous?”
“Yes.”
“And credible?”
“Not yet. But it’s gaining quiet traction.”
Adrian e
