Over the next several days, the problems surrounding Mia's company began disappearing one by one. The supplier called on Friday morning and apologized for the price increase, citing an internal error. The forum post vanished overnight. Two of the three silent clients suddenly reached out again, expressing renewed interest.Sarah noticed the pattern immediately. "Something is strange."Mia looked up from a contract she was reviewing. "What do you mean?""Every problem we had last week is gone. Just like that. The supplier reversed the price hike. The fake post disappeared. Clients are calling back." Sarah tapped her pen against the desk. "Problems do not just solve themselves, Mia.""Maybe the supplier realized they made a mistake.""And the forum post deleted itself? And three clients simultaneously changed their minds?" Sarah shook her head. "Someone is helping us. We just cannot see who."Mia pressed her lips together but did not respond. The thought had crossed her mind too, but sh

Word of what happened on that empty stretch of road in Whitestone traveled fast through certain circles of the city. Not the police. Not the news. A different kind of network entirely. The kind that operated in private clubs, encrypted phone lines, and back rooms where men with money and secrets discussed things the public would never see.Someone had gathered a team, ambushed Alex on an isolated road, and pointed a loaded gun directly at his chest. And that someone had walked away with nothing but bruises and a wounded pride.In a penthouse suite overlooking Central Park, a man in his sixties sat in a leather chair with a glass of scotch untouched on the side table. His assistant stood a respectful distance away, reading from a tablet."The attack failed completely, sir. Four men were left on the ground. Simone Greene personally attempted to shoot him and was disarmed within seconds."The old man's lips curved into a slow, thoughtful smile. He was not angry. He was not even surprised