[Jake's POV]
Aurelia Bancroft taught warfare like she was correcting table manners.
She stood at the front of the operations room with Van der Meer's floor plan glowing behind her, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the table, her dark green coat folded over a chair as if she had always belonged here. Vivian Crossley sat nearby with a cup of tea, silver hair pinned neatly, looking far too pleased for a woman explaining how a room full of widows might decide the fate of a missing corporate queen.
