Mallory Book stepped out of the elevator onto the eighty-third floor of the Empire State Building, and for the first time in her career, the space she surveyed was hers.
It was not borrowed, not inherited, and most importantly, it was not granted by men twice her age who assumed she'd stay grateful.
It was hers.
The floor was still unfinished—raw concrete, bare studs, windows unshielded—but she didn't mind. Power always looked like this at first: skeletal, waiting for someone with vision to sculpt it into something formidable.
Claire followed her, tablet in hand, already rattling off updates.
"The funds cleared this morning into the Book Development Escrow," she said. "Total allocation for the firm renovation: fifty million. The building board approved the floor transfer as soon as the wire confirmation hit."
Mallory smiled—small, sharp.
"Good," Mallory said. "Let the contractors know I want the conference room glass reinforced, the offices soundproofed, and the network security run through three independent audits. If I'm running a firm, it will be one no one can hack, bribe, or bully."
Claire typed quickly. "Understood, ma'am."
They walked to the window. New York sprawled below—clusters of power, corruption, money, fear, ambition all packed into one overflowing grid.
The perfect place for a woman like her.
"Now," Mallory said, "let's talk about the acquisitions."
Claire swiped to a new document titled: Maddox Holdings. She then handed the tablet to Mallory.
Mallory reviewed the final checks—each one waiting to be built or swallowed.
Essex Corporation (Biotech / Genetics) – Acquired
Status: A defunct shell. Abandoned labs.
"Any issues?" Mallory asked.
"None," Claire replied. "The division was dissolved on paper years ago. Buying it through two intermediaries kept your name—and Mr. Maddox's—clean."
Mallory nodded. Essex Corporation could be many things. Dangerous things, but danger was only a liability if it could be traced to you.
She moved to the next line.
Metro-General Hospital (Medical / PR Arm) – Controlling Interest Secured
Status: Underfunded. Easy to influence through charity boards. A cornerstone of the city. Beloved.
"Are the board members receptive?" Mallory asked.
"They're already having discussions on naming the new pediatric wing after Mr. Isaac Maddox," Claire said dryly.
Mallory chuckled. "Of course they are. Money breeds devotion faster than anything."
Mallory assumed that this acquisition served several purposes—medical access, political leverage, and proximity to enhanced physiology cases. She didn't know how useful this was for Maddox, but she didn't care. He asked, and she delivered.
Cybertek Systems (Nanotech / Robotics) – Complete Buyout Finalized
Status: A company buried in black-budget robotics history, always one lawsuit away from collapse.
"Any tracebacks?" Mallory asked.
"None," Claire confirmed. "The acquisition was funneled through a Danish renewable tech startup. Their CEO thinks he was just bought out by a recycling plant."
"Good. Keep him thinking that."
Cybertek was a sleeping beast—dead on the surface, snarling beneath. Its robotics patents alone could fund a dozen lifetimes if they were implemented. Their current CEO didn't have the funds to do so, but Issac Maddox certainly did. If he played his cards right, he could rival Stark Industry in a decade or two.
Mallory closed the folder.
She hadn't expected Maddox to move this fast. Or this decisively. He didn't just have money—he seemed to have a strategy. Before she had even agreed to partner with him, he had already made plans for when she did. She had to admit that he was elegant and terrifyingly effective.
She liked that.
"Claire," she said, "begin the talent recruitment. I want four senior associates from GLK&H—offer them double their salary and full case autonomy. Anyone who hesitates isn't worth the desk."
Claire nodded, "And what about the properties for the I.M.A.G.I.N.E. project?"
Mallory inhaled, pleased that Claire remembered.
I.M.A.G.I.N.E. the charity empire Maddox was assembling. It required shelters, homes, clinics, schools—it would leave a footprint across the city. Mallory understood that a wealthy person needed a charity or two to use for keeping their money safe, but this project was far too big and extensive for such a purpose. Either Maddox really cared about the city's orphans, or he was doing something she wanted to distance herself from. In either case, it was best to get it over quickly.
"Cross-reference zoning allowances, condemned buildings, and any site within three blocks of subway access," Mallory instructed, "I want a shortlist of forty properties by tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Claire blinked.
Mallory arched a brow, "I don't run on GLK&H timeframes anymore."
Claire straightened, "Understood."
Mallory stepped into the center of the empty floor again, feeling the echo of her heels against concrete. For a moment, she let herself imagine how it would look.
Soon, there would be frosted glass bearing her name. A conference room lit and a lobby that whispered intimidation. There would also be staff who feared disappointing her more than disappointing God.
Her lips curved.
She had spent years chasing recognition in a firm that preferred its stars green and tall. Years of filing briefs that won cases while men took the credit. Years holding back because ambition was "unattractive" on a woman.
Well, let them choke on their preferences. Her name would be on the door soon. Her empire would sit in the clouds of Manhattan.
As for Isaac Maddox… Mallory still didn't know what he was.
Was he a philanthropist, criminal, visionary, or a madman? He was probably all four.
But he was a man who understood power and how to leverage it.
And he respected her enough to offer her enough power to get her to work for him.
That counted for something.
She reached her new office—little more than a rectangle framed in glass—and found a beautifully wrapped package on the temporary desk.
Claire blinked. "Huh, when did that get here?"
Mallory opened it.
Inside rested a bottle of Bordeaux older than she was, and a single crystal glass.
The note tied around the neck read:
Apologies for being unable to show my appreciation in person
Congratulations on acquiring your new War Room
Independence is the sweetest, most intoxicating fruit
Take care not to overindulge
— I.M.
Mallory exhaled through her nose, slow and considering.
"Smooth," she murmured to herself, swirling the wine, "Claire have this place swept for bugs and listening devices tomorrow."
Claire looked uneasy, "Should I be worried?"
Mallory smiled, cold and elegant, "No. But other people should."
She set the bottle down gently, "Send the disassociation paperwork. I want my exit from GLK&H to look like retirement due to exhaustion or something. After that, tender in your resignation too."
Claire nodded quickly.
"And when the new firm opens," Mallory added, turning toward the window again, "I want the announcement to be unavoidable. Soon, GLK&H will know that they have a contender, and it's me. They suppressed and pushed me down so much. Now I'll go for the jugular."
Claire hesitated. "A little theatrical, don't you think, ma'am?"
Mallory's smile sharpened, "Oh, Claire. We're past theatrical," She tapped the wine bottle with a fingernail, "We're building legend and legends then to be built on the back of defeated enemies. Like David and Goliath, except our giant is GLK&H."
Outside, the city stretched wide—unaware that a new predator had just claimed her territory.
Mallory poured herself a glass, "To independence… and to whoever the hell he really is."