The Rodriguez Global headquarters in Geneva gleamed in the morning light, its reflective glass façade a monument to wealth and power. In the executive elevator, Alex adjusted his custom Brioni suit, the weight of his father's legacy pressing down on him heavier than the restored Patek Philippe on his wrist—a gift from Carlos on his birthday."The board is already assembled," James informed him. "Geneva's faction has been making calls all night. Three directors are wavering."Alex nodded, his expression betraying nothing of the turmoil beneath. Forty-eight hours since regaining consciousness, twenty-four since last seeing Sonia. Her absence felt like a physical wound."And our allies?" he asked."Secured, for now. But they'll need reassurance." James handed him a tablet. "The markets are nervous. Rodriguez shares dropped eight percent in overnight trading."The elevator opened directly into the executive suite, revealing Elena, his temporary assistant. Her efficiency was admirable but
Alex regained consciousness to the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment. The antiseptic scent of a hospital room filled his nostrils as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. His first coherent thought was of her."Sonia," he murmured, attempting to sit up."Easy," James cautioned, emerging from the shadows of the room. The familiar calculating look had returned to his eyes, though something else lingered beneath—perhaps regret. "The medical team says you'll make a full recovery. The blast wave caused minor cranial trauma, but nothing permanent."Alex ignored his brother's clinical assessment. "Where is she?"James hesitated, an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty. "In the east wing. Stabilized, but..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Different."Alex swung his legs over the bed's edge, ignoring the wave of dizziness that threatened to topple him. "Define 'different,' James.""The neural implants are gone—completely purged by the shutdown sequence. Physically, she's recove
The seaplane floated gently on the turquoise waters as Alex Rodriguez stepped onto the narrow wooden dock, his natural authority evident even in crisis. Despite his exquisite designer suit and the chaos of recent days, he carried himself with the same commanding presence that had driven Rodriguez Global to record profits just weeks ago."Six minutes until the first aircraft lands," James announced, his casual tone belied by the bitterness in his eyes. "Though I suppose I'm still just head of security, even now. Old habits die hard, don't they, brother?" Alex ignored the jab, focusing instead on Sonia as he helped her onto the dock. Even exhausted, she moved with the same grace that had first caught his attention across that crowded Monaco boardroom. "Save the family drama, James. We have more pressing concerns.""Of course," James replied with a blade-like smile. "The great Alex Rodriguez has spoken. Just like in the boardroom, right? Father's chosen heir making all the decisions.""
The helicopter's rotors thundered overhead as Alex made his split-second decision. With Sonia unconscious in his arms and armed operatives swarming the sinking yacht, he locked eyes with James across the debris-strewn deck."Port side! Now!" Alex shouted.Understanding flashed between the brothers. Without hesitation, James laid down covering fire while Alex held Sonia tightly, the silver key still clutched in his palm. They moved as one toward the port gunwale, where the yacht listed dangerously."On three," Alex called out.Both men plunged into the dark Mediterranean waters, the cold shock momentarily paralyzing them. Alex kicked hard, keeping Sonia's face above water while the yacht's bulk temporarily shielded them from view.They surfaced briefly in the yacht's shadow, then swam toward a cluster of massive rocks fifty meters away. Sonia stirred in his grasp, her eyelids fluttering."Alex?" she murmured, disoriented."Stay with me," he urged. "Can you swim?"She nodded weakly, the
Water dripped from ancient stone as Alex led them deeper into the storm tunnels beneath Monaco. The passage narrowed, forcing them to move single file – James in the lead with his gun drawn, Sonia in the middle, and Alex taking the rear, his mind racing.Martinez, not Martelli. The discrepancy nagged at him. If the vault files contained such a basic error about Sonia's family name, what else might be incorrect?"The tunnel branches ahead," James called back, his voice echoing slightly. "Which way?"Alex consulted his mental map of the underground network. "Left. It'll take us toward the marina."As they navigated the damp corridor, Alex watched Sonia's silhouette. Her shoulders were tense, her movements measured – the posture of someone whose world had just collapsed. If she was acting, it was masterful."Did you recognize anything in those files?" he asked quietly. "Any fragment that felt familiar?"She glanced back at him, her face half-shadowed. "No. And yes. The photo of the man t
Monaco skyline glittered against the pre-dawn sky as Alex navigated the Range Rover through nearly empty streets. Beside him, James drummed his fingers against the armrest, tension radiating from his rigid posture."You still haven't explained exactly what this protocol entails," James said, breaking the uneasy silence.Alex caught his brother's reflection in the rearview mirror—the familiar features hardened by years of resentment. He hadn't forgotten how their father's will had driven a wedge between them, gifting Alex control of the empire James had spent years preparing to lead."Mother called it 'Pandora's Box,'" Alex replied. "A collection of contingencies and information secured against anyone's access but hers and mine.""Of course," James muttered. "Another secret club I wasn't invited to join."The bitterness in his brother's voice was unmistakable. Some wounds never fully healed."It wasn't about excluding you, James," Alex said, steering the car toward the harbor district.