Rain hadn’t been forecasted.But the sky above the city wept anyway, a soft drizzle tracing down the polished windows of the penthouse office Javier Everhart rarely used—except when he wanted to be alone. The kind of alone where the world forgot you existed.He sipped his coffee. No cream. No sugar. Just like the man himself—quiet, bitter, and far too sharp to be swallowed comfortably.The storm wasn’t in the sky.It was behind the scenes.Rafael had been noisy, arrogant, and ultimately disposable. But whoever had sent the man in the coat they were the real threat. Professional. Hidden. Strategic.Someone who didn’t throw punches until the knife was already in.Javier set the cup down, gaze fixed on the file folder sitting at the edge of his desk.The name written on it was short.One syllable.Kade.No last name. No digital trail. But whispers connected him to major sabotage operations across the finance sector. Collapsed hedge funds, insider leaks, engineered bankruptcies. Always cl

The room went still—dead still.Even the click of glasses stopped. Even the ever-buzzing executive lounge AC seemed to hold its breath.Chairman Holt.The man was a legend wrapped in authority. A CEO-maker. A career-breaker. His name hadn’t been seen on any official calendar for months. Whispers claimed he had retired early, others believed he operated behind the scenes like some corporate godfather. But here he was, in the flesh, fury carved into every line of his face.“Someone,” Holt said icily, stepping into the center of the lounge, “better start talking. Right now.”The silver-haired executive froze. The flash drive in his hand suddenly felt radioactive.Javier, calm as ever, turned slightly—just enough to face Holt without ever breaking composure.“Chairman,” he said smoothly, voice devoid of fear, “Mr. Whitmore here seems to believe he’s uncovered some sort of... digital conspiracy involving myself. He claims to hold evidence.”Whitmore stiffened. “With all due respect—”“No,”