Wednesday, 8:00 PM. The Georgetown Townhouse.
The heavy oak doors of the study were closed, sealing us inside the nerve center of my newly forged shadow empire. The atmosphere in the room was electric, a potent mixture of exhaustion, triumph, and lingering adrenaline.
I sat at the head of the massive mahogany dining table we had repurposed as a conference desk.
To my right sat Victoria Sterling. The Ice Queen of Wall Street had been released from federal custody less than forty-eight hours ago, the DOJ's case against Vanguard Holdings evaporating the moment the half-billion-dollar capital injection hit their ledgers. She looked slightly paler than usual, the stress of the federal detention center leaving faint shadows under her piercing blue eyes, but her posture was as rigid and imperious as ever.
