Reporters crowded beneath umbrellas, shouting questions that sliced through the downpour like knives. “Marco! Did you know about the falsified accounts?”“Was it your idea to move the funds offshore?”“Is it true your father’s collapse was your doing?”Marco stood in the doorway, drenched, expression unreadable. Inside, through the glass walls, men in suits rifled through boxes, his father’s life’s work reduced to paper and dust.The air smelled of wet concrete and betrayal. A voice he knew too well cut through the noise. “Step aside, Marco.”Damian Cruz descended the steps like a king returning from war. Perfect suit. Perfect smile. His arm draped casually around Elena, her gaze fixed on the ground, lips trembling.Marco’s fists clenched. “You don’t belong here, Damian.”Damian smirked. “On the contrary, little brother. The board’s already voted. You’re out. Effective immediately.”“That company was my father’s”“And you ruined it.” Damian’s tone sharpened. “You moved the funds. You

The city glowed like a trap, wet asphalt, neon veins, and secrets flickering in the dark. Three days after the lawyer’s office, Adrian Vale, the man who’d once been Marco Velez, walked among them like a ghost who’d learned to smile.He’d tested the new ID twice already. Bank account: active. Corporate registry: pristine. Passport scanned without a hitch at the marina office. His father’s inheritance was no illusion.Voss leaned against a lamppost near the docks, cigarette ember flaring. “You look the part,” he said. “Wealth suits you.”Adrian adjusted the cuff of his coat. “It’s just clothes.”“Clothes tell stories,” Voss replied. “Tonight we write one.”He nodded toward the end of the pier, where a private yacht bobbed under halogen lights. The name on its side read The Mistral.A gathering of mid-level financiers and city influencers, people orbiting Damian Cruz’s empire. Adrian exhaled slowly. “You’re sure Cruz’s men will be there?”“Positive,” Voss said. “One of his brokers, Lance

The warehouse smelled of damp steel and dust. Broken crates lined the walls, their contents long scavenged or ruined.Adrian Vale stood at the center, watching as his recruits fidgeted nervously. He had handpicked them for skill, loyalty, and discretion, but he needed to know who would falter under pressure.Voss leaned against a column, arms crossed. “Remember,” he said, voice low, “this isn’t a test of brains alone. It’s a test of trust. One mistake, and Damian’s men, or worse could be watching.”Adrian nodded. “Let’s begin.”First Assignment: infiltration simulation.Each recruit would navigate a maze of crates, security cameras, and fake guards. Their mission: retrieve a briefcase containing fabricated “sensitive data” and return it to Adrian without triggering alarms.“Ready?” Adrian asked, his voice calm but sharp.They nodded. A young woman, Selene, stepped forward first. Confidence radiated from her every movement.“You know the layout,” Adrian reminded them. “No shortcuts. No

The warehouse smelled of damp cement and stale coffee. The glow from multiple laptops cast flickering shadows across the walls, highlighting the tension etched into every face.Adrian Vale leaned over a map of Damian Cruz’s financial empire, tracing connections with a finger that didn’t shake.“We hit them tonight,” he said, voice low but commanding. “Roan’s offshore accounts, Delaney’s internal audits, and the shell companies feeding Damian’s hush funds. Every transaction they think is hidden… will be visible to us.”Selene, seated beside him, tapped rapidly on her keyboard. “Everything’s staged. VPNs, fake IPs, encrypted relays. They won’t know what hit them until it’s too late.”Hale, the tech operative, checked his screens. “Roan’s logging in to review the latest asset transfer. He won’t suspect anything yet.”Voss stood at the corner, arms crossed. “Remember, every move is a test—not just for them, but for the spy inside your circle. Whoever it is will try to sabotage the operati

Rain streaked the city streets, each drop bouncing off the neon glow like liquid light. Inside the abandoned warehouse where Adrian Vale and his team gathered, tension hung thick as smoke.The faint hum of monitors filled the room, casting shadows that danced like predators across the walls.Adrian paced. “Tonight, we strike deeper. The financial network Damian Cruz relies on, every offshore account, every shell company, every hidden ledger, we hit them simultaneously. This isn’t just sabotage. It’s dismantling the foundation.”Selene’s fingers flew across the keyboard, eyes scanning multiple screens. “I’ve lined up the proxy servers and encrypted channels. No direct traces. But… something’s off. The network is more heavily monitored than we thought.”Voss leaned against a column, cigarette smoke curling in the air. “That’s the spy’s doing. Whoever’s in your team has been feeding Cruz live intel, probably for weeks. They’re confident, patient, and careful. You need to force a mistake.