The headlines rolled in like thunder.
"Duchess Corporation Under Investigation,Internal Fraud Allegations Surface."Thorne's Comeback? Analysts Weigh In as Draxon Stock Rises 12% Overnight."Ghost in the Garden: Who is Magritte?"
The city buzzed with rumors and speculation. But inside Draxon's steel fortress, Elias Thorne stood at the edge of a new battlefield one where victory wouldn't just be measured in wealth or power, but in control over the narrative itself.
The Boardroom Draxon Headquarters, The directors had changed their tune. Elias could see it in their eyes: the fear had returned but now it was directed outward, toward their enemies.
"You've stabilized this company," said Director Monroe, her voice cautious. "But the Duchess won't fall without dragging someone down."
Elias nodded. "Let her drag. I'll rise."
Another director, Hollings, leaned forward. "And what's your next move?"
Elias let the silence stretch, then answered, "We make them irrelevant."
He tapped the tablet Jude had just handed him.
"Announce the launch of ThorneTech, a new AI-driven business security and fraud detection system. Market it as the cure to what ails them. We won't just survive we'll lead."
Elsewhere, Duchess Headquarters, Celeste Rain had lost control of the board.
Her minority investors were panicking. Her lieutenants were whispering. But she wasn't finished.
She stared at a wall of monitors in her private war room. One video played on loop Magritte breaking into the server room.
"She's not just a ghost," Celeste murmured. "She's the flame."
Emery entered quietly. "What do we do?"
Celeste stood. "We light a bigger fire."
She picked up a photo an old, faded image of Magritte as a child, held by a masked man.
"Time to wake the past."
The Streets of Draxon City, Later That Night, Lewis, dressed in a suit with hidden Kevlar lining, exited an underground speakeasy with two envelopes in his coat.
The alley was quiet. Too quiet.
Then the first shot rang out.
He ducked, rolled behind a dumpster, and returned fire.
Two men silent, masked, coordinated advanced on him.
He took one down with a well-placed knee and a blade to the gut. The second lunged with a stun baton. Lewis dodged, disarmed, and slammed his fist into the man's throat.
Breathing heavy, Lewis ripped off the attacker's mask.
A Duchess insignia was tattooed behind the man's ear.
"Celeste is done playing," he growled.
The Penthouse – Thorne's Private Suite, Elias sat across from Valerie Dexter.
She sipped a rare red wine, watching him with curiosity. "The city thinks you're bulletproof now."
"I'm not," Elias replied. "I'm just good at dodging."
Valerie leaned forward. "What if I told you Celeste isn't your only threat?"
Elias frowned. "Go on."
She handed him a dossier. "Her cousin. Dietrich Rain. Former private military. Black-ops specialist. Missing for three years."
"Until now?" Elias asked.
Valerie nodded. "Word is, he's in the city. Hired help. Expensive. Lethal."
Elias stood. "Then we bring the war home."
Meanwhile,Magritte's Safehouse, Magritte poured over old files, some she hadn't seen in over a decade. Among them was a picture of a man with a snake tattoo curling around his neck.
Dietrich Rain.
Her half-brother.
She shut the file and dialed Elias.
"We have a new problem," she said.
"Dietrich?"
"You already know?"
"I do now," Elias replied.
"Let me handle him," she whispered.
Elias hesitated. "He's your family."
"He was," she corrected. "Now he's just a job."
The Next Morning The Rooftop Garden, Magritte found Elias alone again, watering a single rose bush he'd kept alive since his return.
"You're still trying to make it bloom?" she asked softly.
"I like difficult things," he said.
Magritte stepped closer. "We don't have much time."
"I know," he whispered. "But I want one moment. Just one."
She touched his hand. "Then take it."
They kissed, and in that moment, the weight of wars, betrayals, and ambitions melted into silence.
But the moment was fleeting.
Jude appeared at the door.
"They've made their move," he said. "Celeste just called an emergency press conference. She's accusing you of insider trading claims she has video proof."
Elias stepped back, eyes hardening.
"Then let's give the cameras something real to watch."
The press conference was packed wall-to-wall. Media vans lined the boulevard outside Duchess Corporation's tower like sentinels. Drones hovered overhead. The world was watching.
Celeste Rain walked onto the stage wearing a charcoal suit, her silver-blonde hair pinned like armor. Cameras flashed, and her crimson lips curled with practiced elegance.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this isn't easy. But Draxon's resurgence has not come without consequence. Today, I bring forth evidence of deep fraud, corporate espionage, and betrayal... by none other than Elias Thorne."
She turned toward the monitor behind her.
A video began.
Elias caught in a dimly lit hotel hallway was seen stumbling, half-conscious, guided by a woman into a room. The timestamp was the night before his major acquisition deal. In the footage, his phone was shown being copied and his fingerprint used to sign into secure corporate files.
Celeste's voice boomed over the gasps.
"This footage was handed over by a concerned whistleblower. This is what unchecked ambition looks like. And this is how Duchess Corporation will respond: legally, publicly, and relentlessly."
At Draxon Headquarters The War Room, Elias stood motionless, watching the broadcast.
He didn't flinch. But Jude did.
"They're going nuclear."
Elias sipped his black coffee, then calmly passed the cup back to Jude. "Then so do we."
He turned to Magritte.
"I need the full version of that footage. The uncut one."
Magritte opened her laptop and tapped keys with speed and precision.
"She clipped the truth out. The woman who walked me in was the Duchess's own rep drugs in my system confirmed by our med team. She had a listening device, not me."
She pressed enter. A clearer version played showing Elias nearly collapsing as the woman lifted his hand, pressed it against his phone, and sent data to a second device in her pocket.
Elias smiled faintly. "Time to broadcast the real film."
Broadcast Center Same Day, Draxon's media affiliate, Titan News, went live within an hour.
"In response to recent allegations, Elias Thorne has released exclusive footage showing evidence of entrapment and foul play by Duchess Corporation representatives. Viewer discretion is advised."
The media flipped like a coin in a storm.
Twitter exploded. Commentators backtracked.
ThorneTrap trended globally within forty minutes.
Elsewhere A Dim Apartment, Dietrich Rain stared at the screen.
He lit a cigarette, then crushed it out.
"You poked the lion, Celeste," he muttered.
Magritte's face appeared in the news feed.
He froze.
A flicker of emotion. Regret? Nostalgia?
He picked up the burner phone.
"Activate Plan Vulture."
Draxon Penthouse Night, The lights of the city stretched out beneath them.
Magritte sat beside Elias on the balcony.
"He's coming for me," she said.
"I figured."
"You want me to run?"
Elias turned to her slowly. "I want you to stay."
She didn't reply, but her fingers found his.
In the distance, sirens wailed. Somewhere, the old world was burning.
Inside Duchess Tower Celeste's Private Lounge, Emery entered quietly.
"You shouldn't have forced that footage. It's blowing up in our face."
Celeste poured whiskey. "You think I didn't know that?"
"Then why?"
"Because the fear isn't in the truth. It's in the noise. Thorne's winning hearts, but I want their nerves. You'll see."
The Streets That Same Night, Lewis met with an informant: a woman with a scar above her brow, wearing an old military jacket.
"Dietrich's assembling a strike team," she warned. "Not for assassination for public humiliation. He wants to paint Thorne as the devil behind every scandal this city's ever had."
"Where?" Lewis asked.
She hesitated. "Galleria D'Amour. Friday night. Charity gala."
Lewis's face paled.
"That's where Valerie's hosting the Draxon-Duchess peace forum."
The Final Scene Galleria D'Amour, Friday Night, Diamonds shimmered. Champagne flowed. Guests wore masks of elegance and deception.
Elias arrived in a custom-cut tuxedo. Magritte beside him, in black velvet and gold accents, looking both like vengeance and grace.
Valerie approached with a glass.
"Smile for the cameras," she whispered. "Tonight decides the balance of power."
As Elias raised his glass to toast, the chandelier above them flickered.
Then a smoke canister burst into the air.
Screams.
Chaos.
From the rafters, a rope dropped followed by Dietrich Rain, dressed like a villain from myth.
He landed on the marble floor, pulled off his mask, and smiled straight at Elias.
"Let's make some noise."