By sunrise, Hawthorne Tower was no longer just a fortress of glass—it was the eye of a storm that stretched across continents. Liam Hawthorne had orchestrated every move with the precision of a surgeon. Every ghost account Cassian had used, every shadow transfer, every loophole—the weapons Cassian had relied on—had been flipped, turned against him. The first tremors had already rattled his empire, but today would see the strike fully delivered.
Ava stood beside Liam in his private office, her tablet flickering with updates as she monitored the cascade of financial collapses unfolding in real-time. Her hair was pulled back, sleeves rolled up, and her sharp eyes scanned every screen with a predator’s intensity. “The Singapore lines are liquid,” she said, her voice calm but tinged with excit
