Chapter Eleven Jake leaned against the sleek black desk in his new office at Sullivan Crest.The city lights pulsed like a heartbeat, mirroring the churn in his gut. The Eclipse file lay open before him, its pages a labyrinth of shell companies, wire transfers, and coded ledgers linking Carter & Associates to Darius Holt’s operations. Diane’s signature, bold and looping, was on every damning document. Jake’s jaw tightened as he traced a finger over her name. She’d helped Holt kill his father, Michael Sullivan, and now she lay in a coma, untouchable—for now. But the rest of the Carters weren’t.His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. A text from Vivian Cross: *Lila’s got eyes on Carter & Associates servers. Expect a data drop tonight. Stay sharp.* Jake nodded to himself, slipping the phone into his pocket. The Syndicate’s tech expert, Lila Chen, was digging into the firm’s digital underbelly, hunting for evidence to seize their assets. Jake’s plan was simple but brutal: ba

Jake sat in the Syndicate’s hidden back office above an abandoned nightclub, the hum of old neon buzzing behind him. Vivian stood across the table, her arms crossed, the final Orion server decrypted on her tablet. Nico leaned against the far wall, eyes cold, gun holstered at his hip. The air smelled of old whiskey and fresh secrets.Vivian dropped the tablet on the table in front of Jake. “It’s all here. Richard’s emails, Greg’s dummy accounts, offshore wires. Holt didn’t just work for them—he was their dog. They kept him quiet with Orion.”Jake scrolled through the files, his jaw tight. It was exactly what he’d been waiting for—proof to bury the Carters in court, kill their firm, and seize everything they thought untouchable. But his mind wasn’t on Richard or Greg.Vivian’s voice snapped him back. “We move tonight.”“No,” Jake said. He pushed the tablet away and crossed his arms. “Amanda’s close. I can squeeze her. If she flips, Richard folds.”Vivian’s eyes flashed. “She’s a liabili

Inside a stark conference room at Sullivan Crest, Jake sat alone, the weight of last night’s battle burdened him. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind a cold clarity. The Carters had made their move—and failed. But their desperation was only beginning.His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Vivian’s name flashed across the screen. He answered quickly, voice sharp.“Status?”“Greg’s mercenaries are retreating, but not defeated. Lila traced their communications back to a warehouse on the south side. They’re regrouping,” Vivian reported, tension in her voice. “Also, the media picked up on the data leak—auditors have launched a full investigation into Carter & Associates. It’s chaos.”Jake exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Good. Let the vultures feast. We keep the pressure. No mistakes.”“Agreed. But Amanda’s still a wildcard. She made a public statement denying any knowledge of the Syndicate. That’s suspicious.”Jake smirked. “She’s covering her tracks. Let her. We’ll deal with her

Jake stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of Sullivan Crest, the early dawn light turning the Chicago skyline into a jagged silhouette. The house was still, the only sound the hum of Lila’s servers two floors below—quiet machines doing loud work.On the desk behind him, the Eclipse file lay spread open, next to the thumb drives from Richard’s hidden lodge. A single lamp cast pools of shadow across the hardwood floor. He hadn’t slept. Couldn’t. Not when the final moves were this close.Nico’s reflection appeared beside his own in the glass. He held two mugs of bitter coffee and set one on the table. “We’ve got Greg boxed up in the basement. Victor’s men switched shifts an hour ago—he’s not going anywhere.”Jake didn’t turn. “Is he talking?”Nico shrugged. “Trying. He’s flipping on Richard, Diane, half the board. Says he wants a plane and half a million. Thinks he’ll just ride off into the sunset.”Jake’s mouth twitched—no smile, just a grim curve. “He’ll get a sunset, all right.”Nico

Diane Carter’s eyes snapped open as the car pulled up to the towering gates of Carter & Associates. The hospital discharge papers were unsigned, the doctors furious — but none of that mattered. Diane had spent enough years wielding power to know one truth: when your enemy thinks you’re weak, you strike first.She pressed her palm against the car door, steadying herself as Greg rushed around to open it. He looked uneasy, shadows under his eyes from nights spent dodging calls from worried clients and angry board members. He wasn’t built for this — none of them were.“Mother, you shouldn’t be out of the hospital,” Greg said, voice hushed, afraid she might break in front of him.Diane adjusted her sunglasses and smiled thinly. “Then don’t look at me like I’m dying. Get my bag.”Greg hesitated, then obeyed, hauling her leather briefcase out of the trunk. Diane straightened her coat, ignoring the tremor in her arms. Her legs felt like glass under her silk slacks, but she forced them to hold