Ares's POV
The city woke in shades of iron.
Gray light filtered through the tinted glass of KnightCorp Tower, washing the skyline in a colorless glow that mirrored the tension brewing in my chest.
My reflection stared back from the window… crisp suit, silver tie, and a gaze that didn't blink.
I had spent years perfecting that look. Unreadable. Unbreakable.
But this morning, it cracked.
Because Jasmine Duvall had turned a boardroom full of vultures into witnesses.
And I hadn't seen it coming.
The reports had arrived before dawn… board reactions, investor summaries, even sentiment threads from closed business forums. They all said the same thing:
"Miss Duvall challenged KnightCorp's projections… and won."
"She's not just a name anymore."
"KnightCorp may have underestimated her."
Underestimated.
A word that should never appear beside mine.
