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The boardroom at Steele Innovations was stifling. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and freshly brewed coffee, but the tension was what truly permeated the space.
The senior executives had been talking for what felt like hours, their voices droning on about projections and market strategies. Normally, I’d have been laser-focused, picking apart every weak point in their plans, but today I barely heard them. My thoughts kept wandering back to my father—his voice, his presence, the way he’d always made this very room feel smaller, more controlled.
“Miss Steele?”
I blinked, realizing the CFO had been addressing me. His cautious tone irritated me. They were all watching me like I was a bomb waiting to go off.
“Continue,” I said curtly, leaning back in my chair.
He nodded quickly and launched into another analysis, his words blending into the background noise.
Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since my father’s funeral. Two weeks of polite condolences, sympathetic glances, and whispered speculations. Two weeks since I’d been thrust into a role I never truly wanted, inheriting the weight of a company, a Council seat, and a legacy I barely had time to process.
When the meeting finally ended, I didn’t linger. I escaped to the privacy of my office, but even there, I found no peace. Every corner of this building reminded me of him, of the empire he built, and of the questions surrounding his death.
At Home
.............
The elevator ride down to Cloud 9 was quiet except for the soft hum of machinery. My hand tightened around the key card as the doors opened to reveal the underground facility.
“Good evening, Alexi.”
The familiar, soothing voice of Wednesday greeted me the moment I stepped inside. The AI’s holographic projection shimmered into existence in the center of the room, taking the form of a tall, elegant woman with piercing eyes.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Wednesday,” I acknowledged, shrugging off my blazer and tossing it onto a nearby chair.
“How was the board meeting?” she asked, her tone polite but with a hint of dry humor.
“A circus, as usual,” I muttered, walking toward the training mat in the center of the room.
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, her expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. “You seem restless.”
“I’m fine,” I replied, though the tension in my shoulders betrayed me.
She said nothing more, watching silently as I began my routine. My father had designed this space right under our penthouse to be a sanctuary, a place where I could sharpen my skills and prepare for the worst. It had everything—state-of-the-art combat simulations, advanced surveillance systems, and enough firepower to level a city block. But tonight, I wasn’t here to strategize. I was here to think.
Each strike I delivered to the training dummy felt like a release, the impact reverberating up my arms. As I moved through the familiar motions, my mind raced.
Who killed him? And why?
There was no shortage of suspects. My father’s position on the Council had made him powerful—and vulnerable. He’d always warned me to trust no one, but now I was certain: someone in that room had betrayed him.
I finished my routine, breathing hard.
“Will that be all for tonight?” Wednesday asked, her tone gentle.
“For now,” I replied.
Council meeting
...........................
The Council chamber was colder than I remembered, the shadows deeper, the tension thicker.
Marcus Grey, the vampire faction leader, wasted no time addressing the room. “There are growing concerns,” he began, his voice as smooth as glass. “A group of foreign rogue vampires has entered Starr City. Their intentions remain unclear, but their presence is a threat to the delicate balance we maintain here. The Council must act.”
I leaned back in my chair, observing the reactions around the table. The werewolf representative growled low in his throat, while the witch faction leader raised a single, skeptical brow.
“I can handle it,” I said, breaking the silence.
Marcus turned his sharp gaze on me, his expression unreadable. “You can handle it?” he repeated, his voice laced with condescension. “This is my kind we’re discussing, Ms. Steele. I will handle the situation, and I will do so on my terms.”
I tilted my head slightly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Fair enough,” I replied smoothly. “But you’d better handle it fast. Because if your kind threatens mine, I will respond accordingly.”
The room went silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air.
“Humans will no longer be blood bags for your rogues,” I added, my tone calm but unyielding. “Not while I’m here.”
Marcus’s lips curled into something between a smile and a snarl. “You tread dangerously close to threatening the Council, Ms. Steele.”
“It’s not a threat,” I said simply. “It’s a fact.”
---
When the meeting adjourned, I left without another word. The night air hit me like a wave as I stepped outside, the city lights stretching endlessly before me.
My car waited at the curb, but I paused, taking a deep breath. The Council’s politics were a minefield, but I couldn’t afford to hesitate. Every move I made was part of a larger plan, one that had begun the moment my father’s casket was lowered into the ground.
I stared out at the skyline, my fists clenched at my sides.
“If they killed you, Dad,” I murmured, my voice low, “I’ll find out who it was. And when I do…”
I didn’t finish the thought. I didn’t need to.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, the engine roaring to life.
Let them play their games. Let them think I’m just another powerless human fumbling in the dark.
They’ll see soon enough.
As I pulled into the night, one thought burned in my mind:
If my suspicions are right, I’ll rain hell down on every last one of them.
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