I stared at the screen, the glowing red alert icon burning into my retinas.

Renata's message was a sledgehammer to the fragile calm I'd built over the last ten minutes. Caleb's lunar phase rating. Flagged.

My thumb drifted down to my left wrist, tracing the crescent-shaped scar hidden beneath my sleeve. The raised tissue felt unusually warm. Sixteen years ago, Caleb was just eight months old when his paternal bloodline flared out of control. I spent seventy-two hours awake, bleeding my maternal calming blood into him, fighting to keep his tiny heart from giving out under the sheer force of his own nature.

Now, he was sixteen, recording my downfall for his friends, utterly oblivious to the fact that his father's bloodline was a ticking time bomb without my presence to stabilize it. A red flag meant the risk of a full lunar phase rampage was imminent.

"Damn it," I muttered, dropping the cardboard box onto the floor of the elevator.

I hit the button for the lobby to stop the descent, then jammed my finger against the floor selection panel. The top floor. The boardroom level. The one place Elliott had strictly forbidden me from entering since we moved into this building.

While the elevator hummed, ascending past the floors I'd spent five years toiling on, I pulled up my contacts and dialed a number I hadn't called in months.

Silas answered on the second ring.

"Nora," his voice was crisp, a sharp contrast to the chaotic buzzing in my head. "I didn't expect to hear from you until the probationary period ended."

"Caleb's rating just turned red, Silas. Renata sent the alert two minutes ago."

A brief silence hung on the line.

"The father's bloodline is asserting dominance," Silas said, his tone clinical. "Without your proximity, the boy's system is destabilizing. Have you spoken to Elliott?"

"Elliott just forced me to resign and handed my largest account to his new fiancée."

"I see." Silas didn't sound surprised. "And you want to intervene."

"I have to. If Caleb ramps up—"

"You cannot reveal the trust, Nora," Silas cut in, his voice hardening. "Not yet. The probationary period requires strict adherence to the terms. If you step in now, you forfeit the leverage we've spent years securing."

"My son's life is at risk!"

"Your son's life is currently stable, merely elevated. He is in the red zone, not critical failure. If you break cover now, you hand the advantage directly to Marcus."

I gripped the phone tighter. "Marcus?"

"He's been moving pieces while you were busy playing the supportive wife. My sources indicate he's already backing the new girl. Jade, isn't it?"

My jaw clamped shut. Marcus. Elliott's biggest rival within the firm, a man who had been trying to orchestrate a hostile takeover for years. If Marcus was backing Jade, her sudden rise wasn't just Elliott's blind infatuation. It was a calculated move.

"He's using her to destabilize Elliott's control over the major accounts," Silas continued. "If you step in and reveal the trust, Marcus will use the ensuing chaos to trigger a vote of no confidence. You need to hold your ground, Nora. Let the pieces fall where they may for now."

"I can't just do nothing."

"You aren't doing nothing. You are waiting. The board meeting is next week. Until then, keep your head down."

The elevator chimed, the display showing the top floor.

"I have to go, Silas," I said, ending the call before he could protest.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and grabbed my box. The heavy metal doors slid open, revealing the plush, soundproofed hallway of the boardroom level. The air up here smelled of expensive leather and polished wood, a stark contrast to the sterile scent of the floors below.

I stepped out, my heels sinking into the thick carpet. I didn't care about Elliott's rules anymore. I needed to see what Marcus was doing.

The hallway stretched out before me, lined with heavy oak doors. At the far end, near the entrance to the main boardroom, two figures stood close together.

I stopped, pressing myself against the wall, half-hidden by a large potted fern.

Marcus stood with his back to me, his broad shoulders easily recognizable. And facing him, holding a thick stack of papers, was Jade.

She wasn't smiling anymore. The smug confidence she'd worn in my cubicle was gone, replaced by a tense, focused expression.

"Elliott thinks he has the board secured," Marcus said, his voice low but carrying down the quiet hall. "He's an idiot. He's too distracted by the wedding planning to notice the shift in shares."

"I have the Shane Dynamics files," Jade replied, tapping the papers in her hand. "The transition is complete. Nora didn't suspect a thing."

"Good." Marcus leaned in closer. "Once we control Shane Dynamics, Elliott's position is untenable. We'll call the vote before the quarter ends."

Jade flipped open the top file folder. "There's one thing I don't understand. The ownership structure here."

Marcus frowned, looking down at the document. "What about it?"

Jade ran a finger across the top of the page. "This holding company. It controls forty percent of the voting rights. But the name isn't listed in any of our standard databases."

She held the paper up slightly, angling it so Marcus could see better.

From my vantage point, the bold, black text at the top of the page was clearly visible, highlighted in bright yellow marker.

The Voss Vanguard Trust.

I stepped out from behind the potted fern, my sensible flats making no sound on the thick carpet.

Jade spotted me first. Her eyes widened, and she shoved the thick stack of papers behind her back. Marcus spun around, his broad shoulders stiffening as he blocked my path to the main boardroom.

"Nora," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave. "You aren't supposed to be on this floor."

"I'm well aware of Elliott's rules," I replied, keeping my tone perfectly even.

"Then why are you here?" Jade asked. She stepped out slightly from behind Marcus. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the edges of the file folders.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my temporary visitor pass. "HR cut my access early. I came to drop this off at the executive desk."

Marcus eyed the plastic square in my hand, his jaw rigid. "Give it to me. I'll make sure it gets to the right place."

I extended my arm. As Marcus reached for the pass, Jade adjusted her grip on the heavy files. The top page slipped a fraction of an inch, just enough to expose the header.

The bright yellow highlighter flashed under the recessed lighting.

The Voss Vanguard Trust.

My mother's proxy name. The shadow entity I had used to quietly stabilize this firm five years ago, burying my own money to save Elliott's failing legacy.

I let the visitor pass drop into Marcus's open palm. "Thank you, Marcus. I wouldn't want to leave any loose ends."

"See yourself out, Nora," Marcus muttered, slipping the pass into his tailored trousers. "And don't come back up here. You don't belong in these halls anymore."

"I'll keep that in mind."

I turned and walked back toward the elevator banks. I didn't rush. I kept my spine straight, letting the heavy oak doors and the scent of expensive leather fade behind me. I didn't look back to see if they were watching. I already knew they were.

I bypassed my old floor entirely. I took the elevator straight to the lobby, pushed through the revolving glass doors, and walked into the small coffee shop on the corner of 5th and Main.

The bell above the door chimed, a sharp, metallic sound that cut through the low hum of the espresso machines. I sat in a booth near the back, pulling a blank cardboard coaster toward me. I grabbed a pen from my purse and dialed Silas again.

He picked up on the first ring. "You hung up on me."

"Marcus is working with Jade," I said, skipping any greeting. "I just caught them outside the main boardroom."

"Did they see you?"

"Yes. But they think I was just dropping off a badge." I uncapped my pen, pressing the tip against the cardboard. "Jade was holding the Shane Dynamics transition files. And a structural ownership chart. They were looking at the Voss Vanguard Trust."

A sharp exhale came through the speaker. "Marcus is moving faster than I anticipated."

"What is his play, Silas? Tell me right now."

"He's acquiring scattered equity," Silas explained, the clinical detachment returning to his voice. "He's been buying up minor shares through shell companies for the last six months. He needs to cross the thirty-percent threshold to force an emergency board meeting."

"To oust Elliott."

"Exactly. Elliott is too busy picking out floral arrangements and fawning over his new fiancée to realize his rival is staging a coup. Marcus plans to use the Shane Dynamics account as proof that Elliott is mismanaging the firm's assets."

"By handing my account to an inexperienced junior," I murmured.

"Jade is the bait," Silas confirmed. "Once the account tanks under her supervision, Marcus calls the vote. Elliott loses the CEO seat, and Marcus steps in to save the day."

I pressed the tip of my pen harder against the cardboard coaster. "And Marcus thinks the Voss Vanguard Trust is just another dormant holding company he can absorb to get those extra votes."

"He doesn't know who controls it. Nobody does, except you and me."

"How many shares does Marcus actually have right now?" I asked.

"Twenty-eight percent. He needs two more to trigger the bylaws."

I dragged the pen across the cardboard. I wrote a single number, the ink bleeding slightly into the porous material.

41%

Forty-one percent. That was the exact amount of equity the Voss Vanguard Trust held. I had acquired it during the bankruptcy scare five years ago, trading my two million dollars for silent, unexercised control. I had never used the voting rights. I had let Elliott play king of the castle while I guarded the gates from the shadows.

"Nora," Silas said, his voice dropping. "I know what you are thinking. Don't."

"Caleb is in the red zone, Silas. Elliott humiliated me in front of the entire staff. He gave my account to his mistress and invited me to their wedding on a sticky note."

"You have to maintain the terms of the probationary period."

"I am done maintaining," I said, my voice hardening. "Marcus is trying to steal the company I bought and paid for."

"If you exercise the rights now, Marcus will know you aren't completely dead," Silas whispered, his tone tight with warning. "Are you sure you want to show your cards at this juncture?"

I flipped the coaster over, staring at the number I had just written.

I slid the cardboard coaster across the small café table.

"I'm not doing it, Silas," I said into the phone.

"You're walking away?" Silas asked, his tone sharpening.

"I'm letting them think they won."

I ended the call. Opening the airline app on my screen, I selected a one-way ticket to Chicago. Departure: three hours from now. If Marcus and Elliott believed I was fleeing the city, they would accelerate their plans. They would get sloppy.

An hour later, I stood in the center of my apartment. The living room felt hollow. I dragged a hard-shell suitcase onto the mattress and unzipped it.

My phone vibrated against the nightstand.

The screen flashed Caleb's name. A voice message.

I tapped the play icon.

"Mom, it's me," Caleb's voice filled the quiet bedroom. He didn't sound remorseful. He sounded impatient. "Dad said you're leaving. Good. But you need to sign over the title to the summer house and the remaining joint accounts. Just transfer those useless things you still have under your name. It makes it easier for Aunt Jade to manage the estate planning."

The audio cut out.

I pressed the cold metal of the phone against my ear. I stood there for a long time, the silence ringing in the empty room.

My left wrist throbbed. I looked down at the crescent scar. Under the harsh bedroom light, the raised skin turned a sickly, translucent pale. I bled for seventy-two hours to keep him alive. Now, he wanted me stripped bare to build a throne for the woman who took my place.

I tapped the microphone icon.

"I know," I said.

I hit send and tossed the phone onto the bed.

Turning back to the suitcase, I folded my clothes into the main compartment. I didn't pack photos. I didn't pack memories. From my purse, I pulled out the yellowed cashier's check stub for two million dollars. Next to it, I placed the printed copy of Renata's red alert medical report.

I laid both documents flat on top of my folded sweaters.

The airport terminal smelled of stale coffee and floor wax. I sat at Gate 14, my boarding pass clutched in my right hand.

"Flight 482 to Chicago is now boarding all zones," the gate agent announced through the overhead speaker.

Passengers shifted, grabbing their bags and forming a line. I stood up, gripping the handle of my carry-on.

My phone lit up.

Renata.

I swiped to answer. "I'm boarding my flight, Renata."

"Don't get on the plane," she said, the background noise on her end chaotic. "Caleb is at the company, and the lunar phase ramped up early."