The boardroom was silent except for the steady tick of the antique clock on the wall. Elena Rossi sat at the head of the long oak table, her hands clenched around a single piece of paper, the grainy photo that had stolen her sleep the night before.

She had stared at it until her eyes burned. Director Ferraro, her father's old friend, the man who had cast every vote in her favor since she took the chair, shaking hands with a representative from Blackthorne Holdings. Alessia's people.

Her ally. ...