The room was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock, its chimes echoing like a countdown to war. Elias Thorne Mr. Dime stood at the head of the elongated obsidian conference table, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Around him, the most powerful executives of Draxon Corporation sat frozen in place, wary of the storm behind his calculated eyes.
"Let me say this plainly," Elias began, his voice calm but laced with steel. "There's a mole in this room. And before this day ends, they'll be exposed."
No one moved. No one dared. It wasn't just the threat. It was the promise.
The past few weeks had been a spiral of revelations. Elias had survived assassination attempts disguised as minor accidents. Financial reports had been tampered with. Confidential partnerships had been leaked to competitors. And now, Draxon's most ambitious international expansion the Vertice Project was at risk of imploding.
Across from him, Valerie Dexter's eyes narrowed. Her engagement to Elias was more of a merger than romance now, but she remained a force. "You think you can walk in here and accuse without proof?"
"Oh, I have proof," Elias said, producing a slim remote and clicking it.
The lights dimmed as a projection flickered onto the wall security footage. Grainy, timestamped, damning. A hand, unmistakably adorned with the sigil ring of a Draxon board member, passing a flash drive to a man in a trench coat behind a hotel.
Gasps rippled.
"Pause at 00:47," Elias ordered.
The screen froze on the ring.
"You recognize it, don't you?" he asked, gaze shifting to the far left seat. "Lennox DeSalle."
Lennox's face paled. "This is ridiculous"
"I've already had your home and office searched. We found the matching drives. You're done."
Security appeared at the doors, silent as shadows. Lennox stood, defiant but trembling.
"You won't get away with this, Elias!"
But Elias didn't flinch. "You already did. For too long."
As Lennox was led out, Elias turned back to the room. "This is just the beginning. Draxon is no longer a company where snakes thrive in the grass."
Jude, his personal assistant, approached. "Sir, the Duchess delegation is ready."
Elias nodded. "I'll handle them in the Sapphire Room."
As the executives began murmuring among themselves, Elias exited, his steps deliberate. The hallway seemed to narrow around him, thoughts flooding in. Lennox was just one piece. There were others. And someone was pulling their strings.
The Duchess representative waiting in the Sapphire Room was not who he expected.
"Magritte," he said, surprised.
She was dressed in charcoal gray, her hair pinned back, but her eyes... her eyes still carried that hurricane of secrets.
"You called for a meeting," she said coolly, "and they sent me."
Elias gestured to the seat across from him. "Convenient."
"Isn't it?" she replied. "I hear your empire's starting to tremble."
"And I hear yours is silently conquering."
They sat, a war of words hidden beneath polite smiles. Their chemistry was undeniable, volatile.
"You still don't trust me, do you?" she asked.
Elias chuckled. "I don't trust anyone. Not even myself."
Magritte leaned in. "Then trust this—what's coming will make today look like a garden party."
The air thickened. She slid an envelope toward him.
"What's this?"
"Names. You'll want to see who's funding your enemies."
He opened it. And froze.
The name at the top made his blood turn to ice.
He looked at her, eyes sharp. "Why are you helping me?"
"Because," Magritte whispered, "I think I might actually like you."
He didn't know whether to laugh or run.
Outside, the sky cracked with thunder.
Inside, the war was just beginning.