The elevator doors closed behind them with a soft hiss, sealing Leon, Elena, and Daniel in a shared anticipation, a united front against the impending challenges.
"Thirty million," Daniel whispered, almost like he didn't believe it.
Leon smirked. "That's just the beginning."
Elena's heels clicked sharply against the floor as they exited Valor Bank. "You do realize you skipped every conventional step of a funding pitch, right?"
"Conventions are for men without clocks ticking over their heads," Leon replied.
She arched a brow but didn't argue.
Back in the car, Leon stared out at the city skyline. With Weller on board, the first domino had fallen. The rest—press coverage, investor confidence, and competitive paranoia—would follow.
But that wasn't what lingered in Leon's thoughts.
Gabriel.
If the bastard had already sent someone to scout him, the timeline was shifting. Faster than expected.
"He's watching me."
And Leon had to make sure Gabriel saw exactly what he wanted him to see.
"Daniel," Leon said suddenly, turning toward him. "I need you to organize a press release by tomorrow. Emphasize the Valor loan, our aggressive tech rollout, and any speculation we can leverage. We want headlines. No—war drums."
"On it," Daniel nodded.
"Elena, prep our legal team. Contracts for new hires and NDAs for everyone with access to R&D. No leaks."
"You think we're being watched?"
"I know we are."
She didn't ask for proof. That was why Leon trusted her.
Elsewhere…
Gabriel Kane stared at the video feed on his tablet, the screen frozen on an image of Leon shaking Weller's hand.
"So," he murmured, "he's already started dancing."
His assistant, a thin man with silver glasses, spoke quietly. "You said he was a puppet. That he wouldn't fight back."
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
"I said he was weak… before."
He placed the tablet down and turned toward the skyline. The reflection of his face glared back at him from the glass—clean-cut, perfectly controlled. But inside, Gabriel's thoughts raced.
Leon was accelerating the timeline. Something had changed. Something unnatural.
"Begin digging," Gabriel said.
"Digging where, sir?"
"Everywhere. His accounts. His phone records. Surveillance from the bank. I want to know who he speaks to, what he dreams about, and what made him wake up this morning thinking he had teeth."
The assistant nodded and left silently.
Gabriel poured himself a drink—no ice, just fire—and stared down into the glass.
"If you want to play king," he whispered, "you better prepare for the crown's weight."
Back at Vercetti Global…
Leon returned to the office late.
Most of the team had gone home, but Elena was still there, seated on the couch with a tablet in one hand and a protein bar in the other.
"You don't sleep either?" Leon asked as he walked in.
"Only when I collapse. You?"
"I don't think I remember how."
He paused, then added, "Thank you for today. I know we're not exactly friends yet, but you've backed me without asking why."
Elena looked up, meeting his gaze evenly.
"I don't trust easily, Leon. But I do trust patterns. And whatever game you're playing… you're not playing to lose."
Leon chuckled. "That makes two of us."
She stood and grabbed her bag. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we start hiring."
Leon watched her leave before walking into his office.
He locked the door behind him and opened the drawer.
Inside, nestled between two files, was a leather-bound journal—his from the previous life. The one he'd scribbled into when things started unraveling. Notes, warnings, dates. Regrets.
He flipped to a dog-eared page.
"October 14th—Gabriel makes his first move against me. Buried inside the marketing team. I didn't see it coming."
Leon closed the journal and placed it on the desk.
"I see it now," he murmured.
Then he turned off the lights, sat in the darkness, and listened to the quiet hum of the city below—a beast he had failed to tame once before.
Not this time.
Leon leaned back in his chair as the elevator doors closed behind Daniel. The meeting had ended, but the real work was just beginning. Every conversation, every handshake—it all had to be calculated now. He could no longer afford the luxury of trust.
He turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window, his eyes scanning the city skyline. It was almost poetic, how peaceful everything looked from up here. Below, people moved like clockwork, completely unaware of the power games unraveling above their heads.
He remembered this exact day in his original life—this morning was when the first silent wedge had been driven between him and Daniel. A minor disagreement over investor outreach had turned into weeks of cold distance, and Leon, too busy and too naive, hadn't realized how the rot had already begun.
Not this time.
His phone buzzed.
Elena Rowe.
He answered. "Yes?"
"I ran the background check on Victor Lang like you asked."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "And?"
"There's no record of him working for any known firm. No employment history. No digital footprint until about six months ago."
Leon's fingers drummed on the window frame.
"So he's a ghost."
"Or someone planted him clean. Either way, whoever sent him isn't playing amateur games," Elena added.
"Thanks, Elena. Keep this between us."
"Always."
He ended the call and stared down at the street again.
Gabriel Kane.
Leon didn't have concrete proof yet, but his instincts screamed the name. In the original timeline, Gabriel had been the perfect partner. Loyal, efficient, and dangerously intelligent. Too intelligent. He had played the long game perfectly, and Leon had handed him every weapon he needed.
But now Leon had something he didn't before: time.
And time, if wielded right, was a weapon sharper than any blade.
A knock at the door.
He turned. It was the secretary. "Sir, your two o'clock is here—Zachary Ren."
Leon's eyebrows rose.
Zachary.
In his first life, the man had been a minor startup founder who had gone bankrupt within a year.
But Leon remembered something else: Zachary's algorithm. A real-time trading AI with accuracy well above market standard. It had been laughed out of VC rooms back then, only to be bought for pennies by another firm—Gabriel's firm.
Gabriel had known.
Leon smiled faintly. Not this time.
"Send him in," he said.