The next morning, Amberly walked into the lobby of the Henry Group headquarters. The receptionist's eyes widened in shock, but Amberly strode past her as if she owned the place and took the private elevator to the top floor.
She found Forest Henry in his office, rubbing his temples, the company's stock price bleeding red on the monitor before him.
He looked up, startled. "Amberly. Child, I..."
"I'm not here about Calvin," she said, cutting straight to the point. "I'm here about the company."
She placed a thin file on his desk. "This is a financial analysis of board member Barclay Duran. He has a massive, failing overseas investment. He's desperate for cash."
Forest stared at her, dumbfounded. "How could you possibly know this?"
"My mother kept detailed notes on all her business associates," she lied smoothly. "She always said Barclay had a weakness for risky foreign ventures. I just had someone confirm he was still at it."
Forest's face grew grim. He knew she was right. He immediately picked up the phone to alert his legal team to start an internal review of Barclay.
As he spoke, Amberly noticed the slight tremor in his left hand, the unhealthy flush on his cheeks. They were subtle, almost invisible signs of extreme stress pushing his body to its limit. Pre-stroke symptoms.
When he hung up, she pulled a sleek, black band from her purse. It looked like a high-end fitness tracker.
She walked around the desk and, before he could protest, fastened it onto his wrist. "Uncle Forest. This is a stress management device I brought back from Switzerland. It will help. And just in case, I brought a more comprehensive emergency kit from my trip. I'll leave it with your assistant. Hopefully, you'll never need it."
He started to object, but something in her determined eyes made him stop.
The device hummed to life. A faint, imperceptible bio-electric current began to pulse into his skin, targeting nerve clusters, easing the tension in his blood vessels.
The throbbing in Forest's head immediately began to recede. The tightness in his chest loosened. He felt a wave of calm he hadn't experienced in weeks.
"This thing is... remarkable," he said, looking at the band in wonder.
Amberly gave a small smile. "Just a little biotech. You need to rest."
She was no longer just his son's ex-fiancée. She was a strategist. A guardian. Forest looked at the young woman before him, a girl transformed, and felt a profound sense of gratitude.
Across town, Calvin was getting into his car. He had to see her. He had to apologize.
"Just give her some space, son, she won't forgive you now." Eleanor had pleaded.
He wouldn't listen. "I don't expect her to forgive me. I just need to tell her I know. I need to say I'm sorry."
He ignored a call from his friend, Casey Velasquez, who was undoubtedly calling to tell him the same thing. He had to do this.
He pulled out into traffic, his route taking him toward Amberly's downtown apartment.
He didn't know that his movements were being tracked.
He didn't see the heavy-duty truck parked on a side street up ahead, waiting.
The driver's phone rang. A cold voice on the other end spoke a single sentence.
"Target is approaching. Proceed as planned."
A carefully orchestrated assassination was about to unfold on the busy streets of New York City.
