CHAPTER 80 — THE COST OF STANDING STILL
The city did not sleep.
From the upper floors of the Kane headquarters, the lights below looked restless—streams of white and red threading endlessly through concrete veins. Elena stood by the glass wall, arms folded loosely, her gaze fixed on the distance without truly seeing it.
Too much had happened too quickly.
Too many lines had already been crossed.
Behind her, the room hummed with quiet activity. Screens glowed across one wall, displaying live reports, financial tickers, security feeds, and satellite maps. Analysts spoke in low voices. Phones vibrated and were silenced just as quickly. Everything moved with controlled urgency.
This was no longer preparation.
This was execution.
"Elena."
She turned at the sound of Adrian's voice.
He stood near the central table, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, his posture calm but coiled. The kind of calm that existed only when a storm had already begun.
