Senithe reached into her evening bag—not a purse, because women like Senithe didn't carry "purses,"—and pulled out a sleek black USB drive that looked like it had been machined from the bones of extinct moral standards.
She handed it to Aurelia, who stared at the small piece of technology like it contained nuclear launch codes.
"Everything you need to know about Liberation Holdings," Senithe said, her voice carrying that quiet authority of someone who traded in information the way other people traded stocks—calmly, ruthlessly, and always at a profit. "Who runs it. What it's actually about. How much power Charlotte Thompson has in the organization. What it means for Quantum Tech's future."
Aurelia's ice-blue eyes tracked every word like she was memorizing a treasure map that led straight to someone else's grave.
