The Substitute Heiress
It felt older.
I dismissed her and sat there longer than necessary, staring at the screen.
This was the second disruption, and it didn’t feel random anymore.
Sebastian arrived just before noon, sunglasses still hooked into the collar of his shirt, and the faint smell of last night’s club lingered around him. He didn’t waste time easing into the conversation.
“I heard something last night,” he said.
I looked up. “From who?”
“Everyone,” he replied. “And no one.”
He stepped farther into the office. “There’s a logistics AI firm we rely on indirectly. We don’t own them, but they’re threaded into our system.”