Predator in a Suit
By GIANCARLO
Adrian did not believe in potential.
He believed in data.
Clara stood at the edge of his desk with a tablet in hand, posture composed, voice steady as she summarized the shortlisted agencies.
"Five firms," she said. "Two high-volume, one legacy, two mid-tier but stable. Rossi & Partners falls into the latter category."
"Performance?" he asked.
"Consistent. No outstanding litigation. Moderate growth curve. Lean operations."
He nodded once.
Consistency mattered more than scale. Large firms grew arrogant. Smaller firms grew hungry. Hunger could be useful if managed properly.
"Schedule in-person evaluations," he said.
Clara hesitated slightly. Not out of uncertainty. Out of calibration.
"You prefer to conduct them personally?"
"Yes."
He did not delegate first impressions. Not after Catherine.
He no longer trusted secondhand assessments when money and structure were involved.
Clara made a note.
"Three days from now. Afternoon block."
"Stagger them."
"Understood."
She paused, then added, "Public perception around Dockside is building. Media interest is increasing."
"It will plateau."
He stood and walked toward the window.
Dockside was not a headline. It was leverage.
He had acquired the district not for prestige but positioning. Infrastructure expansion was coming within eighteen months. He had seen the projections before anyone else cared to look.
The city responded to spectacle. He responded to timing.
"Any noise from municipal partners?" he asked.
"Minimal."
"Good."
Silence settled.
Clara remained where she was, waiting. She knew him well enough to recognize when his mind was shifting from strategy to introspection.
He did not speak about Catherine often.
He did not need to.
The betrayal lived in procedure now. In safeguards. In caution.
He had once trusted someone inside his own structure.
He would not repeat that mistake.
Trust was not an emotion. It was a liability assessment.
"Have legal recheck internal compliance," he said finally.
"It was cleared yesterday."
"Recheck."
Clara inclined her head. She never argued.
When she left, Adrian remained still for a moment longer.
The city below looked manageable from this height. Ordered.
He preferred it that way.
Later that evening, he reviewed the five shortlisted firms more closely. Not names. Not faces. Just numbers.
Rossi & Partners appeared again.
Strong mid-range close rate.
Above-average neighborhood retention.
Lower marketing spend but stable returns.
Efficient.
He appreciated efficiency.
He did not wonder who ran it.
He did not care.
If the firm performed, it would remain. If it faltered, it would be replaced.
That was how systems worked.
His phone buzzed.
A message from a private number.
He stared at it for a long moment before opening it.
No greeting.
Just a single line.
We need to talk.
His jaw tightened imperceptibly.
Catherine.
He did not respond.
He never responded immediately.
She resurfaced periodically. Not dramatically. Just enough to test the perimeter.
He had cut her out of every visible channel. But influence did not disappear overnight.
He locked the screen and set the phone down.
Emotions were reactionary.
He was not.
He walked to the bar, poured a measured glass of water, and leaned back against the counter.
The evaluation meetings would begin in three days.
Five firms.
Five opportunities to assess structure.
He did not expect surprises.
He did not anticipate complication.
And he certainly did not expect any single firm to alter his focus.
Business was clean.
People complicated it.
He had learned that lesson thoroughly.
He would not forget it again.