The Jefferson penthouse was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence—but the kind that hums with pressure. Elsa stood by the tall window, staring out over the glimmering expanse of Velmora City. Her coat still smelled faintly of smoke and ruin from Ravenlock. But inside?
She was ice.
She was steel.
She was ready.
"So we're going after him now?" Kip asked from the leather sofa, nursing a bruised shoulder with a cold can of soda. "Silas isn't exactly a sitting duck. More like a fire-breathing Hydra."
Elsa didn't blink. "We won't attack the Hydra. We'll salt the water he drinks from."
She turned and clicked her remote, illuminating a massive digital map on the wall—connections, shell companies, data trails, and bank logs began to spiderweb across the screen. At the center? Silas Kade—cool, smug, untouchable.
Or so he thought.
"Kip. Begin with Aeris Holdings. I want every subsidiary, every procurement contract, every fake executive. I want his cash to bleed."
"You're... gonna bankrupt the man?"
"No." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to choke his empire until he starts gasping. Then, I'll give him the illusion of safety. That's when we'll strike."
🧠 The Plan: Phase One
For the next 72 hours, Elsa transformed the Jefferson war room into a corporate battleground.
Task forces were summoned in secrecy.
Black hat consultants were contacted under aliases.
Jefferson Global's offshore assets were silently maneuvered into position.
One by one, they mapped out and began disrupting key sectors within Aeris Holdings—cybernetics, biotech patents, logistics ports—anything tied to Sovereign's funding pipeline.
"What about legal blowback?" one exec asked.
Elsa's voice was calm. "By the time they realize what's happening, their lawyers will be applying for jobs."
Meanwhile, Kip intercepted a series of encrypted messages between Silas's lieutenants. There was friction. Panic. One even mentioned a potential "rat."
"We're in his head," Kip grinned. "He's starting to sweat."
Elsa smirked. "Good. Let's raise the temperature."
👥 A New Alliance?
At midnight, Elsa met discreetly with an unexpected visitor—Liora Masen, a former intelligence strategist turned rogue fixer. Elegant. Lethal. Entirely unpredictable.
"You really want to burn bridges with the Kade dynasty?" Liora asked over whiskey and candlelight.
"I want to burn his safety net," Elsa said. "Every thread that protects him."
Liora's eyes glinted. "You're colder than your grandfather ever was."
"Good," Elsa whispered. "That means I'm evolving."
Liora leaned back. "Alright, Queen Jefferson. Let's cut his crown."
They shook hands—not as friends, but as women with matching scars.
🕶 Meanwhile...
Silas Kade stood atop a high-rise downtown, watching a digital feed blink red.
Another account frozen. Another partner gone silent.
He clenched his jaw.
"Who's feeding her this data?" he growled. "This shouldn't be possible."
A shadow stepped out from behind him—a new figure. One who hadn't yet revealed his name. A whisper in silk suits and snakeskin shoes.
"There's always a leak," the man said. "Even gods bleed if they're nicked the right way."
Silas turned slowly. "Then it's time we start biting back."
🧊 Chess, Watching It All
In a dimly lit room miles away, Chess Golding sat before a wall of screens. He had seen every move, every push, every shadow play Elsa had made.
Lance leaned in. "You gonna interfere?"
"Not yet," Chess replied, sipping his tea.
"She's playing like you."
"She's learning." A pause. "Let's see how far she goes before she breaks."
Then a small smile crossed his lips. Not cold. Not cruel.
Proud.