The rumors didn't start out loud.
They spread like pressure, quietly and without anyone noticing, until something broke.
At 7:18 a.m., Ruvan Calderic first saw it while going over a morning briefing made by his communications staff. Most of it was normal, like news about changes in the market, politics, and rules.
Then one line caught his eye.
Rumors that haven't been confirmed after the Regulatory Council event—there were previous executives there.
He read it twice.
People mostly ignored talk that wasn't backed up. It was a polite way to say that sounds didn't need a response.
But the issue was not noise.
This was recognizing patterns.
He tapped the screen to bring up the summary that went with it. It wasn't exciting. There are no headlines yet. Analysts were assembling pieces they were unaware existed.
The independent consultant's comments were very relevant to the compliance problems that Calderic Group is having right now.
Concerns arose regarding internal changes in management practices.
People are guessing when Ms. Noem will leave.
Guessing.
Ruvan carefully lowered the tablet.
People who write about money all over the city were already working on their language skills. Not yet accusations. Things to note. Concern is really curiosity.
When he got to work, the executive floor was buzzing with low, controlled tension.
"Good morning, sir," an assistant said too quickly.
"Good morning."
Elowen sat in the meeting room with her tablet tilted toward her and her jaw tense.
Without saying hello, she said, "They're circling."
"Who?" Ruvan asked, even though he already knew.
"Everyone," she said. "Your silence is being read," the forum said.
"What did it mean?"
"That you're hiding something."
Ruvan didn't say anything.
He had always used silence as a shield. He knew how stories worked. If you didn't respond, stories would die.
But this time, being still was good for them.
A few minutes later, law enforcement arrived, followed by communications personnel.
"We suggest a preemptive statement," said the head of communications. "To make it clear that Ms. Noem's appearance was a coincidence. Putting a lot of emphasis on separation."
"Separation from what?" Ruvan wanted to know.
"From... previous connections."
Affiliations.
They still wouldn't talk about getting married.
Legal cleared his throat. "Regulators are also interested again. For now, things are casual. They want more information about timing overlaps."
"Overlaps?" Elowen reiterated her point in a harsh manner.
"Legal told me, "Between Ms. Noem's leaving and the delays in compliance."
Ruvan leaned back in his chair and put his hands together.
This was a step up.
This isn't from him.
From the world.
He had gently pulled Ilyra away, thinking that taking her away would fix things.
Instead, the absence drew people in.
The board had asked for an emergency call by noon.
There were many faces on the screen: measured, careful, and planned.
One director said, "We need assurance." "That this problem is completely solved."
"It is," Ruvan said in a calm voice.
Another director looked unhappy. "Then why are people talking about her in regulatory talks?"
"Because she's good at what she does," Ruvan said.
The answer hit him harder than he thought it would.
There was silence.
The director said carefully, "That could be the problem." "If outside groups link her skills to our weaknesses, that puts us at risk."
Danger.
Take risks all the time.
Elowen leaned in toward the camera. She simply said, "The story can be changed." "An announcement of an engagement would help."
Ruvan looked at her.
"This isn't the time," he said.
"Actually," she said. "It's right on time." Stability calms the markets.
Stability.
Another word that didn't taste enjoyable.
After the call, Ruvan was the only person in the office. He looked out at the city.
He thought about the forum again and again. Ilyra's voice is calm. Her self-control. How she hadn't looked at him.
She didn't ask for this.
She had just gone back to living in public.
That was enough to throw everything off.
His phone buzzed with a message from his mom by late afternoon.
We need to have a talk. The situation is getting awkward.
Pressure from family.
You can count on it.
Another message came in, this time from an investor he trusted.
Lack of communication hurts trust. Do something.
Do something.
Ruvan made his first mistake of the day at 6:02 p.m.
He wrote a statement.
It was clean. Not taking sides. It was written well.
Ms. Noem is a freelancer who doesn't work for the Calderic Group right now. There is no overlap.
He looked at the writing.
It was right.
And that wasn't enough.
Elowen looked over his shoulder and read it. "That will calm things down."
Ruvan said, "It will make her angry."
Elowen smiled a little. "She doesn't matter to me anymore."
The lie was heavy and obvious between them.
He got rid of the draft.
I read the first rumor about the city and wasn't surprised. Clients sent articles with polite concern. Friends, I stopped using that word for messages that I didn't read.
I shut down the browser and got back to work.
People were just talking about things that weren't true.
It was easy to see that pressure would happen.
Control was based on consistency.
I still knew what this meant.
Silence was no longer neutral.
The world was once again pushing us toward a crash.
Ruvan's phone rang in the penthouse.
The person who is in charge of the board called.
The man said, "We need a public position by morning." "You either handle this situation, or we will take care of it ourselves."
Ruvan shut his eyes for a moment.
The chair said, "For the first time, doing nothing is no longer an option."
The call is over.
Ruvan stayed still as the city flashed below him like a machine that needed to be fixed.
For years, silence had kept him safe.
Now it was a problem.
He grabbed his phone.
Don't call Ilyra.
Not yet.
But starting something that cannot be undone is a mistake.
By morning, Ruvan Calderic would have to choose between power and the truth he had been hiding.