The night after the summit dissolved into whispers and veiled glances, Lin Feng sat in his office, the cityscape beyond the glass wall shimmering with artificial starlight. The room was silent except for the rhythmic ticking of a vintage clock—a recent gift from Gu Qing.
Despite the calm, his thoughts churned. The Apex Council had concluded in his favor, but Cassandra's maneuvering wasn't just a challenge—it was a message. And that message now had context.
A foreign-backed entity.
He tapped the armrest of his chair lightly, eyes scanning the encrypted dossier that Wen Yan had discreetly delivered that afternoon. Cassandra's connections were far more sophisticated than mere wealth and social sway. She had been acting on the subtle funding and influence of a Luxembourg-based shell consortium, itself a front for an intelligence network rumored to have ties with an elite economic warfare division.
Which meant her goal wasn't merely status or revenge.
It was infiltration.
