POV: Xavier
The war room was a vacant, pre-lease office space on the 22nd floor of a building under renovation. Dust sheets covered furniture, and the air smelled of drywall and abandonment. Xavier stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the cityscape that housed his father’s empire. He felt like a ghost in the machine, a rogue subroutine operating in dead space.
He had nothing. No access to Isabella. No way to reach Charlotte. No leverage against his father’s legal onslaught. His only weapon was the truth, and the truth was locked in a safe house and a hidden envelope, useless without a key to the kingdom. He needed eyes and ears behind the curtain. He needed a crack in his father’s armor.
There was only one person who had both the access and a potential fracture line: Da
