(Eleanor's POV)
The first thing Eleanor noticed was the silence. Not the kind of silence that calms, but the kind that presses against your chest, the kind that whispers of consequences you can't escape. She stood in her office, high above the city she had once ruled with effortless precision, and for the first time, the skyline looked indifferent. It didn't bend for her, didn't wait, and didn't fear her. The glass walls that had reflected power now reflected exposure.
Her tablet vibrated on the polished desk. She ignored it at first, letting the tension swell like a storm gathering in the room. The past months had been a careful game: Marcus Creed as her shield, Adolf Wolfe as the decoy, Mira's inheritance hidden, and her own influence threading through every shadowed corner. She had been untouchable—or so she believed.
Until today.
