The city had fallen into an uneasy hush, the kind that came before storms. Hawthorne Tower loomed over the skyline like a blade suspended above the streets, and inside, the air was thick with calculation. Liam moved through the corridors like a predator—every step measured, every glance scanning for weakness. Ava followed close, silent but present, a shadow of steel and fire. The building smelled faintly of coffee and ozone, the remnants of an empire in motion, trembling but unbroken.
He didn’t need to speak. The staff, once on edge, had begun to sense the shift. Panic could be contagious, but so could calm, decisive control. Traders and analysts, still glued to their screens, now looked at him as a lodestar. Not because he was flawless, but because he never allowed himself to appear anyt
