The subterranean parking garage of the Sterling Plaza was a cavern of cold, gray concrete and echoing silence. It was a place designed exclusively for the city’s elite, a secure vault where millionaires left their luxury vehicles while attending high-stakes meetings in the glass towers above.

"You... you ruined me," Julian stammered, falling to his knees. The security guards, realizing their boss could no longer pay them, slowly lowered their weapons and backed away.

"You ruined yourself, Julian," Victoria said, stepping over the shattered glass. "I just handed you the rope."

She walked past him, pushing open the heavy double doors of the penthouse boardroom.

Sitting at the massive mahogany table were three extremely nervous executives from OmniCorp. They looked at the large grandfather clock in the corner.

8:59 AM.

Victoria walked to the head of the table. She placed the custom crocodile-skin briefcase on the polished wood and popped the gold latches. She withdrew the pristine, seventy-million-dollar contracts.

She didn't apologize for her appearance. She didn't explain the lack of shoes or the soot on her coat. Absolute power required no apologies.

"Gentlemen," Victoria said, her voice commanding, smooth, and echoing with unshakeable authority. "I apologize for cutting it close. Traffic in the garage was absolute murder."

She picked up a solid gold fountain pen and signed her name with a flourish.