The interior of the Rolls-Royce Ghost smelled of aged leather, cedarwood, and cold, hard cash.
Elena sat on the heated seat, water dripping from the hem of her trench coat onto the plush carpet. Opposite her, Julian Blackwood tapped on an iPad, the blue light reflecting in his dark eyes. He didn't offer her a towel. He offered her a challenge.
"You have five minutes," Julian said, not looking up. "The ride to my next meeting is short. Convince me why I shouldn't throw you back out into the rain."
Elena took off her wet glasses and wiped them with a tissue from her pocket.
"You're facing a hostile takeover," she stated calmly.
Julian's finger paused over the screen.
"Everyone knows Blackwood Industries is volatile right now," he dismissed. "The tech sector is down. That's public knowledge."
"It's not the sector," Elena put her glasses back on. The world sharpened. "It's a leak. Internal."
She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto the iPad in his hand. Through her Data Eye, the device wasn't just a tablet; it was a node in a web of red, flashing warning signs.
[TARGET ASSET: Blackwood Tech Division]
Current Stock Price: $142.50 (Dropping)
Anomaly Detected: massive short-selling orders originating from... Cayman Islands.
Signature Match: Same IP address as "Sterling Global."
Elena's heart skipped a beat. Arthur. Of course. He wasn't just stealing her money; he was using the reputation she built for him to attack giants.
"Your CFO, Marcus Thorne," Elena said, her voice dropping an octave. "He's not just incompetent, Mr. Blackwood. He's compromised."
Julian finally looked up. The air in the car grew heavy, suffocating. "That is a serious accusation. Marcus has been with my family for twenty years."
"Loyalty has an expiration date," Elena countered. "Check the trade logs from 9:15 AM this morning. A shell company called 'Red River' shorted three million shares of your stock. Ten minutes later, your CFO released a 'correction' on the quarterly earnings that drove the price down by 4%."
She pointed a manicured finger at his screen. "He's shorting his own company to pay off a debt. And the person funding the short... is the Sterling family."
Julian stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. Then, he tapped his earpiece.
"Check the trade logs for Red River. Now."
Silence stretched in the cabin. Elena counted the seconds. One. Two. Three.
"Sir," a voice crackled through the car's speakers, trembling. "We found it. The trace leads back to Marcus Thorne's private server. And... the counter-party is linked to Arthur Sterling's new lab."
Julian ended the call. He looked at Elena differently now. The predator had found a fellow hunter.
He took a bite of his green apple, the crunch echoing in the quiet car.
"You want revenge on Arthur Sterling," Julian stated. It wasn't a question.
"I want his ruin," Elena corrected. "He took ten years of my life and $300,000 of my money. I intend to collect it back. With interest."
"And what is your price for fixing my company?"
"I don't want a salary. I want a position," Elena said firmly. "Make me your Special Executive Officer. Give me full authority to audit your staff. I will root out every rat in your empire, starting with your CFO."
Julian studied her. A wet, shivering woman with the eyes of a wolf.
"Tonight," he said suddenly. "The Belmont Charity Gala. Arthur Sterling will be there. With his new wife."
Elena's hands clenched into fists, but she forced them open. "I know."
"If you go in there looking like a drowned rat, they will laugh at you," Julian pressed a button on the armrest. The partition between them and the driver rolled down.
"Change of plans," Julian ordered the driver. "Go to the 5th Avenue Penthouse. Call the styling team. Tell them I need a 'War Paint' package."
He turned back to Elena, a cruel, amused smirk playing on his lips.
"You want to be my weapon, Ms. Vance? Fine. Tonight, we don't just audit them."
He extended a hand.
"Tonight, we crash their wedding reception."
Two Hours Later.
Elena stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in Julian's private suite.
The "drowned rat" was gone.
In her place stood a queen. She wore a backless dress of midnight-blue velvet that hugged her curves like a second skin. It was professional yet dangerous, screaming money and power. Her dark hair was styled in vintage waves, and her lips were painted a blood-red that matched the soles of her new stilettos.
"Asset Value: Updated," a voice came from the doorway.
Julian leaned against the frame, dressed in a tuxedo that made him look like the devil himself. He held out a small velvet box.
Elena opened it. Inside lay a pair of diamond drop earrings.
"They are on loan," Julian said dryly. "Don't lose them."
"I never lose money," Elena put them on, the cold metal biting her skin. She turned to face him. "Ready to go bankrupt the Sterling family?"
Julian offered her his arm.
"After you, Ms. Vance."