It took forty-eight hours.
That's how long Anita waited after slipping the falsified numbers into the confidential memo. The memo had gone to four people—each hand-picked, each trusted.
Or so she thought.
Now, two days later, the fake data appeared in a trade leak posted to an anonymous blog that specialized in industry "insider scoops." The numbers were just slightly wrong—but wrong enough to shake confidence if anyone believed them.
She'd expected the leak.
She had crafted it.
Inside her glass-walled office, Anita reviewed the post in silence, her expression unreadable.
Then she picked up the phone.
"Send in the four from the strategy team. Close the door after them."
The meeting was brief. Too brief.
Each team member claimed ignorance. Confusion. Alarm.
Anita offered only a tight smile and a promise to "handle it internally."
What none of them realized was that she'd already salted the memo—each version had been slightly different.
Version A went to two members.
Version B went to one.
Version C… to Avery Chen.
And the blog post? It had used Version C's data.
Later that night, in the quiet of her office, Anita confronted Avery privately.
"You're thorough," she said, circling her slowly. "Disciplined. Careful. You covered your tracks better than most."
Avery didn't deny it. Her face remained composed, chin high.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I'm going to thank you," Anita said calmly.
Avery blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You confirmed what I already suspected. And now you're going to help me."
"I won't betray my handler," Avery replied, though the steel in her voice had softened.
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to watch them. And tell me what they're missing."
Avery frowned. "Why would I do that?"
Anita leaned in, voice low. "Because when this is over, someone's going to rebuild this company. It won't be the ghosts in the shadows. It'll be me."
An hour later, Avery left the office. She said nothing. But she didn't delete Anita's number either.
Anita stood alone once again, watching the skyline.
The leak had been a test—and someone had failed it.
One piece down.
More would follow.
Because war wasn't just won by brute force.
It was won by control.
And Anita was taking hers back—one quiet move at a time.