The faint clinking of chains echoed through the interrogation room.

Cassandra sat with elegant composure, her hands cuffed in front of her. Her long black hair fell loosely over one shoulder, partly concealing her calm, calculating expression. Across the table, two detectives watched her in silence as an audio recording from her preliminary hearing played again and again.

But there was no fear in Cassandra’s eyes — only control, and the quiet gleam of a plan already in motion.

“So,” one of the detectives asked, “you admit you had access to Adrian Montgomery’s company database?”

Cassandra’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Access? Of course. I had legal clearance at...