The message arrived at 6:42 in the morning while Claire Sterling stood barefoot in the kitchen of the penthouse she once believed was built on love.
The first image lasted less than two seconds before silence engulfed the entire boardroom. It wasn’t a murmur. It wasn’t mere discomfort. It was that thick, suffocating emptiness that forms when too many powerful people understand the exact same horrifying truth at the exact same time. Julian stood frozen in front of the podium. The…
