Scarlett walked into her bedroom and locked the heavy door behind her.
The second the lock clicked, a violent electrical shock tore through her nervous system.
"Task failed. Level One electrical punishment initiated," the system's voice buzzed in her head.
Scarlett's knees buckled. She collapsed onto the thick Persian rug. Cold sweat instantly soaked through her silk shirt.
Her muscles spasmed violently. She bit down hard on her lower lip. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She refused to make a sound.
The agony lasted for three agonizing minutes. When it finally stopped, Scarlett lay on the floor, gasping for air. In her mind, she gave the system a vicious, bloody middle finger.
She dragged herself off the floor and stumbled into the bathroom. She stood under the freezing shower for thirty minutes until the shaking stopped.
She stood in front of the mirror. She applied a thick layer of concealer over her pale skin. Her eyes burned with a dark, unyielding fire.
The next morning, Scarlett skipped her classes. She walked into the academy's rare books library. It was located in the oldest, most isolated wing of the campus.
She needed to pull physical records on the Vance Consortium's early acquisitions. She needed leverage.
The library was empty. Dust motes danced in the sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors at the entrance slammed open.
Dontae Vance walked in. He wore a dark navy bespoke suit. He moved like a predator stepping into a cage.
Four massive men in black suits followed him. They immediately moved to block the exits, locking the heavy brass deadbolts.
Scarlett looked up from the thick ledger on her desk. She watched him approach. Her face showed absolutely no fear.
Dontae walked up to her table. He stood over her, his broad shoulders blocking the light. His dark eyes cut into her.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating.
Scarlett closed the ledger. She folded her hands on top of the desk and leaned back.
Dontae reached into his jacket. He pulled out the handwritten report and tossed it onto the center of the oak table.
"Who is the team behind this?" Dontae demanded. His voice was low and rough.
Scarlett let out a short, mocking laugh. "Your lack of imagination is boring. I wrote it."
Dontae narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, invading her space. He stared into her eyes, searching for the lie. He found nothing but a black abyss.
He reached into his pocket again. He pulled out a checkbook, scribbled a number, and slid it across the table.
"Ten million dollars," Dontae said. "You sign a non-disclosure agreement, and you forget this loophole exists."
Scarlett looked at the check. Her lips curled into a sneer.
"The Vance Consortium is worth over a hundred billion," Scarlett said. "If this loophole hits the SEC, your stock tanks by twenty percent in an hour. You lose twenty billion."
She tapped her fingernail against the wood. "Ten million dollars wouldn't even buy a strand of my hair."
Dontae's jaw tightened. "People who make me unhappy in this city have a habit of disappearing without a trace."
Scarlett leaned forward, matching his aggressive posture. "If my heart stops beating, an automated email sends this exact report to the SEC and the Wall Street Journal."
The air between them crackled with violent tension. Neither of them blinked. Neither of them backed down.
Dontae suddenly let out a dark, breathless laugh. The anger in his eyes morphed into a twisted, burning fascination. He realized he was looking at the most dangerous creature he had ever met.
