The city morning looked deceptively gentle—soft sunlight spilling across the marble floors of Alyssa’s office, warming the glass walls and throwing fractured light across her desk. But beneath the elegance, beneath the stillness, the world was shifting.

Alyssa had felt it for days.

A pulse in the board.

A whisper in the corridors.

A betrayal wearing polished shoes and an expensive suit.

And finally—this morning—she found the proof.

She tapped the corner of the touchscreen panel, pulling up the encrypted transaction logs Rafael had delivered last night. Numbers flickered, rearranged, sharpened…until one name emerged like a stain.

Director Lionel Hart.

A man known for his charming laughter, his expensive taste,...