Marcus Holt was gone by noon.Terminated. Escorted out. His keycard deactivated before lunch. The information moved through PIERCE Tower at the speed of held breath — whispered in hallways, confirmed in a terse two-line HR email that said nothing and meant everything.Sloane heard it from Stella over the cafeteria salad bar."Distant family and everything," Stella murmured, eyes wide. "Didn't matter. Gone." She glanced up. "Nobody's talking about you anymore, by the way. Nobody's talking about anything.""Good." Sloane stabbed a cucumber.The effect was total. Surgical. The kind of message that didn't need a press release — it just landed, and everyone adjusted accordingly.She understood, suddenly and clearly, how Declan Pierce had built an empire.✦✦✦✦✦By afternoon, she'd settled into the rhythm of it — conference room prep, meeting management, standing straight at the door while men in ex
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