2025-07-03 13:10:47Lena leaned over the laptop in the safehouse, eyes locked on the screen. “Look at this,” she said, pointing. “A $10 billion transfer from Voss to a company called BrightStar. Same week KaneTech lost its biggest software deal.”
Elias stared at the screen, his scar tingling. “That can’t be a coincidence.” His mom’s voice echoed in his mind: “They cheated us.”
“We need answers,” Elias said.
Lena nodded. “BrightStar’s CEO is Alan Voss. He knows what went down. Let’s confront him.”
From the corner, Marcus scoffed. “You? Confront a CEO? Good luck, rookie.”
Elias didn’t respond. He gripped the Syndicate keycard tighter. His mom, Amelia Kane, had built KaneTech from the ground up. That $1.5 trillion account was hers, and his now.
He wasn’t just a janitor anymore.
At the bank, Elias stood alone, his heart racing. The teller double-checked the account. “Amelia Kane. One-point-five trillion dollars.”
His scar tingled, and his mom’s voice whispered clearly: “The pin is 7-1-9-2.”
He typed it in and withdrew five million dollars.
Outside, Elias slipped into a shiny Rolls-Royce Phantom—bought just that morning. Two luxury SUVs pulled up behind it, making a convoy for him, Lena, and Marcus.
Dressed in a sharp black suit with a gold watch flashing, he said, “Let’s show BrightStar who I am.”
Lena smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. “Looking like a boss, Elias.”
Marcus grunted, not impressed. “Don’t choke in there.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed. He was going to make them all notice.
BrightStar’s tall, shiny tower stood out in downtown Chicago. Elias stepped out of his car, the convoy waiting behind him. Lena and Marcus walked beside him, looking like they stood on buisness. The receptionist stared at Elias’s sharp suit. “Mr. Voss is expecting you, Miss Lena” she said nervously.
Inside the penthouse office, Alan Voss—a thin man with gray hair—stood behind a glass desk. “Who are you?” he asked, glancing at Elias’s Rolls-Royce outside. “Some new rich kid trying to act important?”
Elias spoke calmly. “I’m here about the $10 billion contract KaneTech lost. The week of June 12, 2015. Voss paid BrightStar that amount. Why?”
Alan’s face went pale. “KaneTech? That company fell apart after Amelia Kane died.” He looked closely at Elias. “What do you want?”
Lena stepped forward, her voice strong. “This is Elias Kane, the new CEO of KaneTech. Amelia’s son. The rightful heir.”
Elias’s heart raced—she’d never said that out loud before. Alan’s jaw dropped, his eyes flicking to Elias’s suit.
“Amelia’s son?” Alan stammered, shocked. “That’s impossible. KaneTech was finished.” He sank into his chair, stunned. “We won that contract fair and square. Amelia’s death left them weak.”
Elias leaned forward, his gold watch shining. “Fair? Voss paid BrightStar $10 billion that week. Was that a bribe?” His mom’s voice urged him: “Keep pushing.” Alan’s hands shook. “I don’t know anything about a bribe.”
“Don’t lie,” Lena said sharply. “We have bank records. Talk now, or we go to the police.” Marcus crossed his arms, staring hard. Alan swallowed nervously. “It wasn’t me. Crane handled the deal. Ask him.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed. “Crane again. What really happened that week?” Alan hesitated. “Voss wanted the city’s AI contract. BrightStar got it after… talks with a councilman. That’s all I know.”
Lena gave Elias a sharp look. “Councilman Reid,” she whispered. Elias nodded, his scar burning. Amelia had been cheated, but he needed more proof. “We’re not finished,” he told Alan as he turned to leave.
Mara’s penthouse glowed with evening lights. Victor Dray, her rich tech suitor, sipped whiskey with a smirk. “KaneTech’s dead. I crushed them with Apex’s bid.” Mara frowned, gripping her glass. “ Heard Elias now worked for that company.”
Dray laughed. “Your ex? Just a janitor, nobody. Stick with winners, Mara.” Her jaw tightened. “He wasn’t always nothing,” she said sharply. Dray’s eyes narrowed. “You’re too soft for him.”
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Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Nine
The morning air was sharp, cutting through the stillness like an uninvited question. Elias had been awake for hours, reviewing incident reports and community feedback from the past week. The city had not quieted; it never did. Every success seemed to attract new scrutiny, every flaw became fodder for critics. Yet, beneath the surface chaos, patterns were emerging, threads of stability weaving through the disorder.He entered the operations room, finding Mara already at the central console, scrolling through live feeds from across the districts. “Early start?” she asked without looking up.“I couldn’t sleep,” Elias admitted. “Too many variables to track, too many moving parts to anticipate.”Mara didn’t comment, simply pointed to a cluster of alerts. “District Seven. Energy grid anomalies. Sensors suggest potential overload in multiple substations. Could cascade if not addressed quickly.”Elias leaned forward, scanning the data. “Do we know the cause?”“Preliminary analysis: unexpected
Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Eight
The message arrived just before dawn, blinking into Elias’s private channel with a priority tag so high it bypassed every filter he had left in place. He had fallen asleep with his tablet still glowing on the desk beside him, a half-finished report on distributed authority performance metrics slowly dimming as exhaustion finally claimed him. When the alert pulsed through the room, it felt like a physical jolt, dragging him back into consciousness with the kind of urgency that only real danger could produce.The words were brief and deliberately vague.System irregularities detected across three civic networks. Possible coordinated interference. Stand by for escalation.Elias sat up, rubbing his face, the familiar weight of responsibility settling onto his shoulders before his feet even touched the floor. It had been months since the city had experienced anything that could truly be called a crisis. There had been friction, of course, and political maneuvering, and the steady hum of in
Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Seven
Elias sat at his desk long after the office lights had dimmed, the glow from his laptop screen casting a pale reflection in his glasses. Outside, the city was alive with the muted hum of late-night traffic, the occasional siren, the distant chatter of pedestrians who had not yet surrendered to sleep. Inside, he was listening to the quieter sounds: the soft tapping of keyboards from the few late-shift staff, the occasional shuffle of papers, the whir of the air conditioning, a constant reminder that everything here was running on multiple levels of coordination, some visible, some hidden.The issue that had pulled him into the office so late was not dramatic. No fire. No scandal. No media cameras flashing in the hallways. It was a simple error in scheduling—an overlap in critical personnel assignments across two high-priority projects that could cascade into serious inefficiency if mishandled. On paper, the system could handle it. In practice, Elias knew that people would feel the ripp
Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Six
The first sign of trouble came from a place no one had been watching.It was not a crisis report, not a leak, not a headline shaped like accusation. It was a resignation letter, uploaded quietly into the system at 04:17 in the morning, flagged only because the sender was someone who never acted without calculation.Director Halvorsen. Infrastructure Coordination.Elias read the letter twice before the weight of it settled.It was polite. Measured. Almost apologetic. It praised the direction of reform, acknowledged the necessity of distributed authority, and then, in a single understated paragraph, explained why the author could no longer serve under it.“I no longer recognize the boundaries of my mandate,” the letter read. “Without those boundaries, I cannot act with the clarity required of this office.”No accusations. No threats.Just withdrawal.By sunrise, three more resignations followed. All similar. Different departments. Same phrasing. Same concern, expressed with professional
Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Five
The summons did not arrive with urgency. No red banners, no escalating alerts. Just a short message marked informal briefing, sent through a channel that existed specifically so nothing said inside it could be quoted later.That alone told Elias everything he needed to know.By the time he reached the council annex the following morning, the city was already awake in the way it only became when something invisible was shifting underneath it. Traffic moved, but more cautiously. People read their phones longer at crossings. The noise level felt the same, yet the attention beneath it had sharpened.Inside the annex, the room chosen for the briefing was deliberately unremarkable. No seal on the wall. No cameras. A table large enough to signal seriousness but small enough to suggest deniability. Seven council staffers were already seated, spread unevenly, each with a tablet or notepad placed in front of them like a defensive measure.No one stood when Elias entered.That was also new.“Than
Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty-Four
The meeting was already heated by the time Elias arrived.Voices leaked through the glass walls of the conference room, sharp and layered, the sound of people arguing who were accustomed to being listened to. Someone had drawn a crude diagram on the whiteboard, arrows crossing over each other in a way that suggested less clarity than intention.Elias paused outside long enough to understand the shape of it. This wasn’t panic. It was ownership colliding with disagreement.When he stepped in, no one stopped talking. That, too, was new.“We’re treating this like a theoretical failure,” a woman near the board said, tapping the marker against her palm. “But the vendors are already adjusting behavior. They’re gaming the discretion window.”“Which means they always were,” someone else replied. “We just didn’t see it because the incentives were centralized.”“That doesn’t help us now.”Elias took a seat without announcing himself. He listened.The issue was procurement again. Not corruption,
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