PART 11:

Morning came gray and cold. Scarlett dressed for the office in autopilot, her mind already three steps ahead. She had meetings scheduled all day, budget reviews, strategy sessions, the usual corporate theater. She’d sit through all of it, smile and nod and say the right things while planning how to break into her own company’s basement after everyone went home.

The absurdity of it wasn’t lost on her. Richard Holbrook caught her in the hallway outside her office at 9:30. He looked like he hadn’t slept much either. “We need to talk.” he said. “I I have a meeting in 5 minutes.” “Cancel it.” He walked into her office without waiting for permission. Scarlett followed, closing the door behind her.

Richard stood at her windows, looking out at Manhattan. “Thomas is calling for an emergency board vote. He wants you removed as CEO.” The words should have shocked her. Instead, they just felt inevitable. “When?” “Friday, 3 days from now.” Richard turned to face her. “He’s been making calls, talking to other board members.

He’s got Patricia on his side, maybe two others. If he gets six votes, you’re out.” “Let me guess.” “He’s citing my handling of the data breach as evidence of poor judgment.” “Among other things?” “He’s arguing that you’re too emotionally invested, that you’re pursuing a personal vendetta instead of protecting company interests.

” Richard paused. “He’s also suggesting you might be mentally unstable.” Scarlett laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Of course he is.” “That’s the classic move, isn’t it?” “Woman shows principles, must be crazy.” “I’m not saying I agree with him. I’m saying he’s building a case, and he’s good at it.

” “If you don’t have something concrete by Friday I’ll have it.” “You sound very confident for someone who’s gambling her entire career on a hunch.” “It’s not a hunch.” “Leonard Graves is dirty, and Thomas Whitmore is either his partner or his accomplice.” “I’m going to prove it.” Richard was quiet for a long moment, then he said “What if you can’t?” “Then I lose, but at least I’ll lose knowing I tried to do the right thing instead of covering it up.

Noble sentiments don’t pay the bills, Scarlett, and they don’t keep you in power. Maybe that’s the problem. She met his eyes. Maybe we’ve been so focused on keeping power that we forgot what we were supposed to use it for. Richard shook his head. You really have changed. A month ago, you would have sacrificed anyone to protect this company.

Now you’re willing to sacrifice the company to protect your conscience. I’m not sacrificing the company. I’m trying to save it from people who see it as nothing but a personal bank account. Same thing, different perspective. Richard moved toward the door. For what it’s worth, I hope you’re right.

But if you’re wrong, don’t expect me to go down with you. He left. Scarlett stood at her windows, watching the city move below. Somewhere down there, Mason Reed was probably having breakfast with his daughter, helping her get ready for school, living a life that had nothing to do with corporate warfare and board politics.

She envied him more than she wanted to admit. The day crawled past in meetings that meant nothing. Scarlett smiled at the right times, signed the right documents, made decisions about budgets and timelines while her mind counted down the hours until she could put Mason’s plan into action. Leonard was in two of the meetings, his silver hair perfectly styled, his suit probably worth more than most people made in a month.

He looked relaxed, confident, like a man who had absolutely nothing to worry about. He caught her eye once during a presentation about fourth-quarter projections and smiled, a friendly, professional smile that made Scarlett’s skin crawl. At 6:00 p.m., most of the staff started leaving. Scarlett stayed at her desk, going through emails and pretending to work while the 47th floor slowly emptied around her.

By 8:00, only a handful of people remained. A few workaholics in distant cubicles, the overnight security staff making their rounds. She waited until 9:00, then grabbed her laptop and headed for the elevator. The Legacy server rooms were on sub-level 3, accessible through a service corridor most employees didn’t even know existed. Scarlett had only been down there once, years ago during a facilities tour she’d barely paid attention to.

Now she followed Mason’s instructions through hallways that smelled like dust and old electronics, past storage rooms and mechanical equipment, until she reached a door marked SL3-B, restricted access. Her admin credentials worked on the keypad. The door unlocked with a heavy click. Inside the room was cold and dark, except for the blinking lights of server racks lining the walls.

The equipment looked ancient by tech standards, five, maybe six years old, which might as well have been prehistoric. But the lights were blinking, which meant it was all still running, still processing data somewhere in the background of Orion Global’s digital infrastructure. Scarlett found the terminal Mason had marked in his guide, a workstation in the corner, its monitor dusty but functional.

She connected her laptop, entered the access codes Mason had provided, and waited while the system authenticated. A command prompt appeared. She was in. Following Mason’s instructions felt like navigating by starlight. Every step had to be precise. One wrong command and she’d either lock herself out or trigger alerts that would bring security running.

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