Negotiating the Terms of Trust
The scent of expensive scotch and ozone hung heavy in Julian’s private study, a sharp contrast to the clinical silence that had settled over the penthouse since Elena’s discovery. She stood by the mahogany desk, her hand frozen above the glowing interface of the secondary terminal. On the screen, Project Obsidian scrolled relentlessly—Marcus’s systematic embezzlement of the Nakamura subsidiary funds laid bare in cold, unflinching detail.
The heavy oak door clicked shut behind her. Without turning, Elena felt Julian’s gaze sear into her back. The temperature dropped—not from the climate control, but fro
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