Anita had barely taken the reins when the whispers started.
Not about Marcus.
About her.
"She moved too fast."
"Cleaned house too easily."
"Something doesn't add up."
She expected that. Power always invited scrutiny. But these whispers felt… different.
In the quiet pulse of GNV's internal servers, subtle anomalies began to appear. Encrypted logins at odd hours. Documents opened—but not downloaded. And one name came up again and again:
Avery Chen.
The woman no one noticed.
She worked in legal. Had once worked under Marcus. Had stayed silent during the purge.
Now, she watched.
And waited.
Her instructions were clear: Don't confront. Don't interfere. Just observe.
And when Anita made a mistake, record it.
Meanwhile, Anita had moved her workspace to a more open floor. Symbolic. Transparent. She didn't hide behind marble walls anymore.
Julian joined her most mornings now, usually with two coffees and a stack of files.
"You're turning into a reliable assistant," Anita teased one morning.
"I'm insulted," he said, handing her the coffee. "I'm at least an executive errand boy."
Their laughter came easy—but neither lingered in it. That's what made it dangerous.
Julian had been watching her too—but with different eyes.
He saw the strain beneath her calm. The fire in her restraint. The toll of building something real in the ashes of betrayal.
He knew she was changing. He just didn't know how much.
That afternoon, they worked side-by-side through crisis projections. The silence between them was full—not tense, not awkward, just alive.
At one point, their hands brushed as they reached for the same pen.
Anita didn't flinch.
But she didn't meet his eyes, either.
Elsewhere, in a secure chat line, Avery typed a simple report:
"Target growing closer to Julian R. Potential weakness. Watching."
That night, as Anita left the building under the fading city lights, she felt a familiar chill run down her spine.
Not fear.
Instinct.
The game wasn't over.
It had just leveled up.