Reina's POV
Power didn't reside in boardrooms.
It lived in silence. In shadows. In choices made behind frosted glass and encrypted calls at 3 a.m.
Reina Tanaka sat on the rooftop terrace of her penthouse, legs crossed beneath the black silk of her robe, a cigarette burning between two perfectly manicured fingers. She didn't smoke often—but tonight, the fire helped her think. Below, the city of Tokyo gleamed like a fortress of light, hiding the rotted empires beneath its skin.
Her phone buzzed.
She didn't check the name. She didn't have to.
"Is she ready?" the voice asked in Japanese.
Reina blew out a thin stream of smoke. "Elise Carter is more than ready. She's the one we've been waiting for. The Americans just didn't realize it."
There was silence on the line.
Then: "What about Holloway?"
"He's spread too thin," Reina replied. "The Yukimoto connection was his mistake. He got greedy."
"You think she'll move?"
"She already has. You should have seen her eyes when she read that report." Reina stubbed out the cigarette and stood. "She's not just coming for vengeance. She's planning her coronation."
The voice gave a short, approving chuckle. "And Blackwell?"
Reina paused.
"Blackwell's intrigued. That makes him dangerous. He hasn't decided yet whether she's a threat or an asset. But either way, he won't stay neutral."
"Then let's keep stirring the water."
Reina ended the call, her lips curling.
She wasn't just watching Elise Carter.
She was betting everything on her.
Elise's POV
By 10 a.m., Elise had flipped a board member.
It hadn't been easy—but then again, Elise never played to win. She played to dominate.
Thomas Vale, the CFO of Carter Holdings, had always been loyal—to the numbers, not the family. And loyalty, Elise knew, was malleable when numbers lost their shine.
She stood beside the large screen in the private board prep room, arms folded, waiting for Thomas's reaction as the video finished playing. The screen showed Liam Holloway, visibly drunk at a Tokyo hotel bar, laughing as a Yukimoto executive whispered in his ear. The timestamp was from last quarter—right before a deal Elise had been intentionally blocked from.
Thomas looked pale.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.
"Does it matter?" Elise asked coolly. "It's real. And if the shareholders ever see this—"
"They won't," Thomas cut in quickly. "You'd be burning the entire house down."
She leaned in. "Only the parts infested with termites."
Thomas stared at her for a long beat.
Then he nodded. "What do you want?"
"A swing vote. And silence. For now."
He exhaled. "Done."
An hour later, Elise stepped out of the prep room, the adrenaline still humming beneath her skin. She texted Jessica to send a curated press release about an "internal audit initiative" that would subtly raise questions without drawing blood.
She was already three steps ahead.
Still, her heels slowed as she passed the hallway mirror.
For a moment, she stared at herself. Not at the tailored navy dress or the pearls at her throat. But the glint in her eyes.
She didn't look like the girl who used to beg for her father's attention or cry herself to sleep after overhearing Liam's cruel remarks.
She looked like the woman who could dismantle them all.
Her phone vibrated again. This time, it was Adrian.
Blackwell: Dinner tonight. Private. 9 p.m.
She didn't answer right away.
Instead, Elise slipped her phone back into her purse and walked into her office, closing the door behind her. She had bigger things to handle first.
That evening, Elise returned home to her penthouse and tossed the Tokyo folder onto the kitchen island. She poured herself a drink—no wine tonight, only whiskey—and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The city blinked beneath her, unaware.
The Yukimoto report had exposed a network Liam had kept hidden for years—backdoor mergers, shell companies tied to corrupt construction deals in Southeast Asia, and one name that kept appearing beside his.
Roxanne Delacroix.
Elise hadn't seen that name in years.
Not since the funeral.
She sat on the couch, pulling out her old tablet. It was encrypted, outdated, and offline—but inside it was a copy of her late father's personal ledger. He had documented everything. Even the secrets.
She began to dig.
Flashback – Ten Years Ago
Elise, Age 17
She was standing in the hallway of Carter House, ear pressed to the cracked office door.
"…you need to tell her," her father's voice had said.
"She's not ready," came her mother's sharp reply.
"She's already stronger than you think."
Then her name was whispered. And a name she didn't recognize.
Delacroix.
But before Elise could process it, the door opened and her mother stepped out, eyes cold and accusing.
"You're just like him," she had hissed. "Always listening. Always waiting."
Elise had run that night. Into the rain. Into silence.
Now she understood why.
Present
Back in her penthouse, Elise sat frozen.
Her father had known something.
And now, ten years later, she was beginning to understand what the entire family had tried to bury.
This wasn't just about revenge.
It was about uncovering a legacy they tried to erase.
Later That Night
Elise didn't show up to dinner with Adrian.
She didn't answer his call either.
Instead, she stared at the name scribbled in her father's old handwriting, beside a single phrase:
"R.D. owns the real crown. Elise will need to steal it back."
She traced the words with her fingers.
So that's what this was all about.
Not just reclaiming power.
But reclaiming the truth.