The room was quiet in the way that came after storms, when even the air seemed to be listening for what would break next.Lukas stood by the window, his phone resting loosely in his hand, the screen dark. Below him, the city moved on, unaware and uncaring, cars threading through the streets like nothing in the world was wrong. He watched them for a long moment, grounding himself in the ordinary rhythm of it all, before he finally turned away.Elise sat on the edge of the couch, her posture straight, hands folded together in her lap. She had changed since the last time he had seen her, and not just in the obvious ways. There was a sharpness to her now, a restraint that had been forged under pressure. She looked like someone who had learned the hard way that hesitation could cost everything.“You shouldn’t have come alone,” Lukas said at last.Elise lifted her head. “Neither should you.”A corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Fair.”Silence settled again, heavier this time.

The room had the kind of silence that did not belong to calm, but to calculation.Lukas felt it the moment he took his seat at the long polished table, the air thick with anticipation and restraint. This was not a gathering of men and women waiting to be persuaded. It was a room full of people waiting to see who would blink first. Every face carried a carefully arranged expression, neutral enough to deny allegiance, alert enough to betray fear.He did not rush to speak. He never did.Elise stood just behind him, close enough that he could sense her presence without looking. She had learned his rhythms well enough to know that this was not the moment for reassurance or whispered strategy. This was the moment to let silence do its work.Across the table, the chairman cleared his throat. A man in his late sixties, silver-haired, posture stiff with authority he no longer fully controlled. Lukas watched him with detached interest. This man had once dictated outcomes with a raised eyebrow.

The consequences arrived before dawn.Lukas was already awake when the secure line lit up, the room still dark, the city beyond the glass barely stirring. He listened without interruption as Margot spoke, her voice clipped, efficient, threaded with the kind of tension she only allowed through when something truly mattered.“They moved,” she said. “Not loudly. Not all at once. But enough to confirm it.”Lukas sat up, one hand braced against the mattress. “Where?”“Two fronts. Legal and logistics. A coordinated attempt to trigger compliance reviews across three subsidiaries. If it goes through unchecked, it won’t shut us down, but it will slow everything. Months.”“That’s the point,” Lukas said. Delay was a weapon for people who had already lost momentum.Elise stirred beside him, immediately alert, reading his posture before he said a word. He covered the line briefly and murmured, “They’ve started.”She nodded once, already shifting into focus.“Names,” Lukas said into the phone.Marg

Lukas did not mistake calm for safety.The day after the internal upheaval felt quieter, but it was the kind of quiet that followed a sudden shift in gravity. People were still adjusting to where the ground now lay. Some were relieved. Others were terrified. The most dangerous ones were pretending nothing had changed at all.From the moment he stepped into the operations wing, Lukas felt eyes tracking him. Not hostile, not friendly. Measuring. He walked anyway, steady and unhurried, letting the tension reveal itself rather than trying to suppress it.Elise caught up with him near the central briefing room.“They’re talking,” she murmured. “Every corridor. Every encrypted channel. Some are angry, some are confused. A few are already looking for new alliances.”“Good,” Lukas said. “People show who they really are when certainty disappears.”She studied him. “You’re pushing them.”“I’m giving them space to misstep.”Inside the briefing room, Margot was waiting with a projection already a