The atmosphere inside the executive conference hall was vastly different from the rest of the company.
Colder.
Sharper.
Every word spoken here carried weight.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, morning light pouring across the long obsidian table where the board members of Styles Industries sat in tense silence.
Some reviewed documents.
Others watched quietly.
A few were already preparing arguments before the meeting had even officially begun.
At the head of the table sat Riley.
Calm.
Unreadable.
Ethan stood slightly behind him near the wall, tablet in hand, observing the room with practiced silence.
And directly across from Riley—
The tension started.
"The elections are approaching faster than expected," one of the older board members stated, adjusting his glasses. "Public sentiment is becoming unstable."
Another nodded. "The market is already reacting. Investors are nervous."
"Not nervous," another corrected. "Divided."
That was more accurate.
