The war didn’t announce itself with explosions or headlines.It arrived quietly—through delayed confirmations, hesitant voices on calls that used to be confident, and silence where loyalty once lived.Seraphina noticed it first.By dawn, her screen was already alive with red indicators. Not failures—no, that would’ve been merciful. These were hesitations. Pending approvals. Deferred meetings. Executives suddenly “out of town.” Investors who needed “more time.”Time was a weapon.She stood at the glass wall of the penthouse office, watching the city stretch awake beneath her. From up here, everything looked orderly. Predictable. Controlled.That illusion irritated her.“They’re slowing us deliberately,” she said without turning.Lucien, seated behind her, closed the file he’d been reviewing. “They think if they stall long enough, we’ll make a mistake.”“They’re hoping pressure will expose cracks,” she replied.He rose and joined her at the window. “There are none.”Seraphina finally tu
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