Kassandra knocked tentatively on the door. I ended the call with Father and beckoned her in. She’d been stationed in the lobby with Chelsea earlier—her face still pale with residual fear. 

“You have something to report?” I gestured for her to sit. 

She slid a small cardboard box across my desk. Inside lay several USB drives. “The head of security compiled today’s surveillance footage. Encrypted, as you requested.” 

“Invaluable,” I said, plucking the drive labelled with the attack’s timestamp. I slotted it into my laptop, the screen flickering to life with grainy footage. 

Kassandra hesitated. “It’s just… I’ve never seen anything like this, Ms Leslie. Even your father’s rivals never...