The elevator ride down to the basement was the longest minute of Julian Sterling’s life. The mirrored walls of the lift reflected a man who looked untouched, his dark blue suit still crisp and his posture perfectly aligned. But beneath the silk of his jacket, his heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped animal.

’I am still Julian Sterling,’ he told himself, though the thought felt hollow. ’A setback in like this is not a death sentence. With the money I’ll be receiving, I can pivot. I can rebuild.’

The moment the doors hissed open into the cold, concrete expanse of the Apex Plaza garage, his phone vibrated in his palm. He answered it before the first ring finished.

"Report," he barked.

"Sir... we lost contact," the voice on the other end was filtered and shaky. "We couldn’t get ahold of the operative. He hasn’t checked in since he stated that the target was in sight. I think... I think he failed."

Julian stopped dead in his tracks next to his silver Bentley. The silence of the garage amplified the sound of his teeth grinding.

’As if that isn’t obvious. You sent a nincompoop.’

"You think he failed?" Julian’s voice was a low, lethal hiss. "Of course he failed! I have just been stripped of my assets and forced to sign away my legacy for pennies. Do you think that would be happening if your man had finished the job? I have lost over a hundred billion marks in a single morning because of your incompetence!"

"Sir, we can still try to—"

"Shut up!" Julian roared, the sound echoing off the concrete pillars like a gunshot. "Don’t call this number again. If you can’t handle a simple extraction, you’re useless to me."

He slammed his thumb onto the end-call button. For a split second, his arm pulled back, ready to shatter the device against the oil-stained floor, but he caught himself. He took a sharp, jagged breath and smoothed his hair. He was Julian Sterling. He did not throw tantrums in parking garages.

He climbed into the back of the Bentley, the leather cool against his back. "Drive," he barked at the chauffeur. "And don’t stop until we’re past the city limits."

---

Back on the 45th floor, the boardroom was silent save for the soft scratch of Marcus Sheele’s pen as he organized the new acquisition files. Jake Rivers remained at the head of the table, staring at the digital ticker on his tablet.

"Seventy-three billion marks," Jake said, breaking the silence. He looked over at Marcus. ’For a company rated second in the company, that’s quite expensive.’ "That’s the valuation for the Sterling construction subsidiary. Aurelia Capitals isn’t even two months old, Marcus. We don’t have that kind of liquidity sitting in the vault. How are we planning to cover the wire transfer by the morning deadline?"

Marcus didn’t even look up from his papers. "We aren’t. Not directly. Adrian is handling the financing through his family’s private equity wing. He’s already cleared a low-interest bridge loan to Aurelia. We’ll use the revenue from the northern contracts to pay it back over the next five years. It’s essentially a leveraged buyout using Julian’s own future profits to pay for his past mistakes."

Jake leaned back, a small, grim smile touching his lips. ’Out of the four board members, I thought I knew Adrian the most yet not in my wildest imagination did I think he had access to that kind of amount.’

"I underestimated Adrian’s reach," Jake admitted aloud.

"We all have our roles, Jake," Marcus said, finally looking up. "But speaking of liquidity... you just committed to buying sixteen percent of Meridian at market price. That’s nearly fifty billion marks. Where is Golden Investments getting that kind of cash? I assumed you’d be asking us for a loan."

"I don’t need a loan," Jake said flatly. "The cash has been sitting in a holding account since the day we decided to move against Sterling. I’ve been waiting for the moment he was desperate enough to get everything for dirt cheap."

Marcus paused, his pen hovering over the paper. He studied the twenty-three-year-old across from him, his mind racing through the logistics of such a sum. ’Fifty billion marks liquid? That doesn’t come from a inheritance alone. This kid has been playing a much deeper game than I realized.’

"Fifty billion liquid? In a holding account?" Marcus asked. "Jake, people in this city spend their entire lives trying to see ten million marks in one place. If you had that kind of capital, why go through the trouble of joining Aurelia?"

"Because of the same reasons everyone else joined. Capital is just money," Jake replied. "Aurelia is power. There’s a difference."

Marcus went silent for a moment, a newfound sense of caution entering his gaze. He realized that as much as they were allies, he still didn’t know the full depth of the man sitting at the head of the table.

"Fair enough," Marcus said, clearing his throat.

Jake leaned in. "But I have a question. Why did you insist I go after Sterling’s construction arm? Meridian Group will be handing over their construction subsidiary to Aurelia as a fee for saving them from the hostile takeover. We’re going to be bloated with infrastructure."

Marcus leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with professional ambition. "Meridian’s arm is local, Jake. They own the city, the residential developments, and the local labor. But Sterling’s arm is international. They have the heavy machinery and the permits for the northern trade routes. We need both if we want to control the region. We don’t just want to build buildings; we want to own the corridors they sit on."

Jake turned his chair toward the window, looking out at the Aurelia skyline. ’The Sheele family won’t take this sitting down.’ "But there’s a problem, Marcus. Your family is the undisputed king of real estate and construction in this country. By taking both construction companies, Aurelia Capitals is now your father’s biggest competitor. He’s going to see this as a direct challenge."

Marcus’s expression hardened, his youthful features looking suddenly much older. He adjusted his watch, a cold light in his eyes.

"Let him," Marcus said. ’If my father thinks I’m playing at being a CEO. Then he’s about to find out I’m playing for keeps.’ "I didn’t join this board to stay in my father’s shadow. If the Sheele family wants to see this as a challenge, they can try to move against us. But they should remember—they aren’t just fighting their son. They’re fighting four other conglomerates standing behind one banner. If it comes to war, we’ll battle it out. Aurelia didn’t come here to play nice."

Jake nodded slowly. "Good. Because the tax man is just getting started, and Julian Sterling isn’t the only one on the list."

Marcus stood up, gathering his jacket and the folder of signed divestments. "I’ll call Adrian. The funds will be in Sterling’s escrow by 09:00. Welcome to the construction business, Jake."

"I’ll see you at the briefing on Wednesday," Jake said.

Marcus gave a short nod and exited the boardroom, his mind already calculating the next move against his father’s empire.

Once the room was empty, Jake let out a long breath. He picked up his phone and dialed his mother. It rang twice before she picked up.

"Mom? How is she doing?"

"Jake! Oh, she’s doing much better," Martha’s voice was warm and relieved. "The doctor just did his final rounds. He said she’s recovering perfectly and she can be discharged tomorrow morning."

Jake felt a massive weight lift off his chest. ’Thank God.’ "That’s the best news I’ve had all day. Tell her I’ll be there early to pick you both up."

Suddenly, Aliya’s voice came through in the background, sounding energetic despite the circumstances. "Is that Jake? Give me the phone!"

A second later, Aliya was on the line. "Listen, if you think a little hospital bed is getting you out of our trip, you’ve got another thing coming. I spent weeks planning that itinerary, and I am not letting it go to waste just because of some headache."

Jake chuckled, the tension in his shoulders finally vanishing. "Aliya, you were just in an accident. Maybe we should focus on you walking out of the hospital before we worry about the beach."

"I can walk fine!" she retorted. "I’m already bored. The food here is terrible, and the Wi-Fi is even worse. We are going on that trip, Jake. No excuses."

"We can talk about it tomorrow," Jake said. "Just get some rest."

"Mom is giving me the look," Aliya whispered loudly. "Fine. But pack your bags."

Martha took the phone back. "She’s already driving the nurses crazy, Jake. Oh, and I almost forgot—Carroll woke up about an hour ago. Aliya is about to go meet her in the next ward, so I have to hang up and tend to her. I’ll call you if anything changes."

"Thanks, Mom. See you tomorrow."

Jake hung up and immediately pulled up his messages. He found Catharine’s name and typed out a quick text.

>Aliya is doing great. She’s being discharged tomorrow morning.

The response came almost instantly, as if she had been holding her phone waiting for the news.

>I’m so glad to hear that, Jake. I was worried sick. Tell her I said to get better soon.

Jake stared at the screen for a moment, a rare sense of peace settling over him. He had his family, he had the Meridian stake, and he had just went against a titan.

’Now,’ he thought, looking back at the empty boardroom table, ’the real work begins.’

---