Roxie Sterling

The transition from the suffocating heat of the elevator into the cavernous, mahogany-lined boardroom felt like stepping onto a stage before a firing squad.

Blinding flashbulbs flickered rapidly, casting sharp shadows across the polished glass table and reflecting off the slate-grey walls. Journalists from the financial press crowded behind the security barriers, their massive lenses tracking our arrival with frantic intensity.

“Miss Sterling! Look over here! Can you confirm the rumours of an internal estate fracture?”

“Herr Vance! Is it true the shadow committee is pushing for an emergency motion to dissolve your chairmanship?”

Garrison didn’t answer them. He kept his fingers firmly laced through mine, his grip...