Alexander's executive assistant, Marta, had sent me six notifications when I woke up to the intense glare of my phone's screen. My heart twitched. I took the sheets out and looked at the messages:
"A potential leak of financial irregularities— stock price down 4%."
"Unauthorized access to accounting servers is being investigated by Reid Industries."
The board scheduled a meeting at 9 a.m. — urgent.
Leaving my tea on the nightstand, I sat up. Ethan Carter was not done despite the slander lawsuit and restraining order. He had been picking at every weakness in our defenses for weeks, but this was his last move.
He threatened investors, had somehow compromised our finances, and now sought to overthrow Alexander's dominion.
With my heart pounding like a war drum, I pulled on a top and fitted pants. Uncle Bruce stood at the entrance, his aristocratic visage etched with anxiety.
As we descended in the elevator, he whispered, "They linked a VPN to Carter's shell company and traced the b
