Aurora hadn’t slept. The memory of Damien Leclerc’s gaze haunted her long into the night sharp, probing, too perceptive for comfort. His handshake lingered like a brand on her skin, a reminder that she had stepped willingly into dangerous waters.

By morning, the city hummed with a new storm. Reports of the Northern Project’s “delays” spread like wildfire across investor networks, seeded by whispers from the board. Aurora read every headline with a growing knot in her stomach. This ...