Chapter 10: The Queen Ascends

Three days later. Rosier Holdings HQ, 88th Floor. The Global Boardroom.

Ava arrived ninety minutes early. She personally raised the security level to maximum: Main entrance sealed, side entrance biometric only. Metal detectors at every elevator. All attendees to submit belonging manifests 48 hours prior; phones confiscated. Two armed helicopters on the roof pad. Snipers in position. The building was a fortress ready for war.

At 9:25 AM, Ava stepped out of her private elevator.

She wore a custom Valentino 2025 black suit-dress. The shoulders were sharp as knives, the waist snatched tight, the slit rising to her thigh. As she walked, the glimpse of leg made the black-clad bodyguards lining the hall lower their heads in unison. Ten-centimeter Louboutin red bottoms clicked on the marble—clack, clack—like nails being driven into the coffins of the old guard. The high collar covered her neck completely, which only made the line of her jaw and collarbone look sharper, like a dagger wrapped in velvet.

The conference room was full.

Alexander Rosier sat at the very end. The seat of power was now his cage. His face was grey, eyes webbed with blood, looking like a man flayed alive. Victoria was absent. Official reason: "Recovering from severe illness." Reality: lying in a Swiss private ICU with ten severed fingers, unable to hold a pen. The other elders looked down, knuckles white, sweating, terrified to speak.

Ava took the head seat. The end of the long table finally belonged to her.

No pleasantries. No opening remarks. She slammed a stack of files onto the center of the table. The sound wasn't loud, but the room went so quiet you could hear hearts malfunctioning.

"Today, only three items."

Her voice was ice, laced with a terrifying pleasure.

"One: Removal of Alexander Rosier from all positions, effective immediately." "Two: New bylaws. The Chairman holds absolute veto power. Life tenure." "Three," she paused, a faint smile touching her lips, "welcome the true heir of the Rosier family."

Every face in the room changed.

Alexander shot up, voice raspy screaming, "You dare!"

Ava looked up, smiling gently and cruelly. "I already have."

She snapped her fingers.

The screen lit up. Lawyers projected documents: Pre-signed voting proxies, recordings, videos, offshore account trails, even the complete chain of Alexander's asset embezzlement over the years. Every file was a lethal shot.

Voting began.

The votes she had bought, threatened, and coerced were all in place. 15 to 2. Alexander was kicked out. He didn't even qualify to observe.

He stumbled, pointing a shaking finger at Ava. "You mongrel bitch! You'll die screaming!"

Ava pressed the intercom. "Security. Please escort the former Chairman out."

Two bodyguards in black entered, hoisting Alexander by the arms. He was still screaming as they dragged him out, his voice fading into a pathetic echo before the heavy doors slammed shut.

Three seconds of dead silence.

Then, thunderous applause.

Ava stood. She walked slowly around the table, heels sounding like the footsteps of the Reaper. She stopped at the window, looking down at Manhattan. The snow-covered city lay beneath her feet.

"From today," she whispered, her voice amplified by the microphone to the entire floor, "Rosier Holdings takes the name Ava."

The doors swung open.

Sebastian Rosier walked in wearing a black trench coat. His silver eyes swept the room like a drawn blade. He walked to Ava’s side, stood still, and spoke. His voice was low, chilling spines.

"Good morning. I am Sebastian Rosier. From today, I serve as Executive Vice President, reporting directly to the Chairman."

The elders looked at each other. Someone stammered, "B-but Mr. Sebastian... ten years ago..."

"Ten years ago, I went abroad for studies." Sebastian smiled politely, but no one dared meet his gaze. "Now I've learned what I needed. I'm back to help my sister."

He turned and held out his hand to Ava.

Ava placed her hand in his. Fingers interlaced. She gave the room a bright, ruthless smile.

"Welcome back, brother."

The meeting adjourned. The crowd dispersed.

Only the siblings remained.

Ava leaned against the window. The snow-light reflected on her face, making her look like an obsidian statue.

"Thank you, Sebastian."

Sebastian stood half a step behind her. "I should thank you. You're even more ruthless than I imagined."

Ava turned, hugging his neck. "From now on, we do it together."

Sebastian hugged her back, palm flat against her spine. "Together."

At the same time, downstairs.

Landon Voss sat in the back of his Maybach. In his hand was a photo—Ava and Sebastian hugging in the garden. His knuckles were white, the edges of the photo crinkled. Blood vessels burst in his eyes.

The driver glanced in the mirror. "Sir, where to?"

Landon’s voice was ice. "Rosier HQ. I want to see Ava."

Across the street, a matte black G-Wagon sat idling. Kai Reyes leaned against the door, cigarette in his mouth, staring at the HQ entrance, smiling that roguish, dangerous smile.

His phone beeped. A text from Landon: [There's a man with her. Sebastian Rosier. Do you know who he is?]

Kai typed two words: [I know. Her brother.]

Landon stared at the text. The red in his eyes exploded.

On the 88th floor, Ava stood by the window, watching the two cars below—left and right, like two beasts lying in wait. She curled her lips, whispering so only she could hear:

"Come on. Both of you. I'm waiting."

The snow fell harder.

The new Queen had ascended. But her slaughter was just beginning.