The office was quiet except for the low hum of the air-conditioning and the occasional rustle of paper from Bryan’s end of the long table. Ven preferred it that way as silence gave him room to think, and thinking was the most dangerous weapon he had.“Where are we with the acquisition plan?” Ven asked without looking up from the spread of documents in front of him.Bryan closed the file he’d been scanning and slid it across. “Our proxies have secured just under three percent of Brown Empire’s circulating shares. Not enough to raise eyebrows, but enough to start influencing certain committees… especially if we keep placing the right people on them.”Ven allowed himself a small nod. “Three percent is enough to plant seeds. We’re not aiming for takeover yet, it's just to control the flow of decision making. I want Davis and Victory thinking their enemies are inside the building with them.”Bryan leaned back. “That brings me to the other thing. I’ve been tracking movement in one of their

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing Daniella away from Ven’s office and the low, steady voice that had just given her the most dangerous order she’d ever carried out. She kept her expression neutral, but her mind was already moving on the order, not on whether to do it, but how.She’d been with Ven long enough to know his plans were never spur-of-the-moment. Bryan might have been his right hand in logistics, but Daniella is his other hand precise, quiet, unseen. If Bryan was the man who built the machine, she was the one who made sure its blades found their target.They’d both started in the same place at the special unit. Back then, she thought Ven was just another ambitious mind with a knack for reading people. She didn’t know the truth until the prison saga.Daniella stepped out into the cool night air, she didn’t head home. Not yet.Her first stop was a small, unassuming wine bar tucked between a boutique furniture shop and a shuttered bookstore. To anyone else, it was just anot

His office, perched high above the streets, was a study in shadows lined with shelves of leather-bound volumes, a single desk lamp casting pools of light over the spread of documents before him. A half-finished glass of wine sat by his elbow, forgotten in the swirl of information.For months, Cyrus had been peeling away the layers of Brown Empire, thread by thread, tracing its weaknesses, its fractured loyalties, its hidden skeletons. He’d invested too much time and too much blood to stop now. The empire had to fall not simply because he hated what it represented, but because it had once humiliated him in ways no one living would dare repeat.Tonight, however, a new element had entered the game.The rumor had reached him through three channels in less than twenty-four hours. First, a discreet whisper from a contact in the finance sector, then an encrypted message from one of his analysts and finally, a direct call from a shareholder who believed Cyrus might “know more.”The late cha

Victory Brown leaned back in his leather chair, the city skyline stretching endlessly beyond the glass walls of his office. The room was quiet now, but his mind wasn’t. He could still hear Davis’s voice from earlier, sharp and brimming with anger as he paced in Victory’s study, railing against Kate, certain she was the one behind the rumor.Victory had listened, calm and still, letting his brother vent. That was the difference between them. Davis burned hot and fast, ready to scorch anyone who crossed him. Victory, on the other hand, preferred to let the fire consume itself before deciding where to strike.The rumor had shaken Davis to his core, but for Victory it was… interesting. Dangerous, yes, but also revealing. Like a hairline crack running through marble, it showed him exactly where the weaknesses in the empire lay.He picked up a pen and rolled it between his fingers, his thoughts circling. He needed a way to make this about him.Davis was convinced she was behind the whispers

Kate Brown had learned to live with suspicion. It was as constant as her own shadow, whispering in the corridors of Brown Empire, hiding in the eyes of her rivals. She carried it like a second skin. But this new rumor crawling its way through the city like wildfire had teeth sharper than she anticipated.The “dead son of the late chairman” was alive.When the whisper first reached her desk, she dismissed it as another boardroom tactic, a desperate ploy by shareholders who feared her growing control. But it had not gone away. It had grown very wild. By now, it had weight. And worse, the narrative was bending in one direction: toward her.She could see it in the way Davis’s gaze lingered too long when they met last, in the way Victory’s handshake felt colder than usual. They suspected her. Or at least, they wanted to.Kate stood at the window of her office, her reflection sharp against the lights of the city below. She had spent a fortune, sacrificed nearly everything, to keep her grip