Elena Norwood leaned against the sleek conference table in her Manhattan office, the headquarters of EcoThreads a hive of organized chaos. At twenty-eight, she'd carved out her own corner of the fashion world, her sustainable brand a beacon of innovation in an industry drowning in waste. The office buzzed with energy—designers sketching, interns darting with fabric swatches, and the hum of sewing machines from the adjacent studio. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating mood boards pinned with recycled denim samples and ocean-plastic weaves. Elena's dark hair was swept into a practical ponytail, her tailored blazer a nod to professionalism, but her sneakers hinted at the restless drive inherited from her father, Byano.
She studied the contract on her tablet, the fine print from Oceanic Textiles blurring under her scrutiny. This deal could propel EcoThreads into the global market, securing a supplier that turned discarded plastics into high-quality thread. But the exclusivity clause nagged at her—too restrictive, a potential chokehold on future partnerships. She needed Byano's insight, his knack for spotting traps in deals like this. Yet, as she prepared to call him, her mother's voice echoed from last night's dinner: Always business. Victoria's barb had stung, not because it was true, but because it weaponized Elena's ambition against her.
Elena's phone buzzed—a text from Sophia: You killed it at the show last night! Dad's so proud. Elena smiled, warmth spreading. Sophia's art show had been a triumph, and Byano's presence there, despite his corporate battles, reminded Elena why she leaned on him. But Marcus's absence gnawed at her. She'd texted him yesterday, hoping for lunch, but his silence was deafening. His depression was a shadow over the family, and Victoria's manipulation—using his struggles as divorce leverage—made Elena's blood boil.
She dialed Byano, who answered on the second ring. "Elena, everything okay?" His voice was steady, but she caught the undercurrent of strain.
"Need your take on a contract," she said, pacing. "Oceanic Textiles. They're offering a great rate, but the exclusivity smells like a trap."
"Send it to Harlan," Byano replied. "He'll tear it apart. But trust your instincts—you're rarely wrong."
Elena grinned. "Thanks, Dad. How's... everything else?" She meant Victoria, the divorce, the mysterious threats he'd hinted at last night.
He sighed. "Complicated. Your mother's pushing hard. And there's a leak at the company. Stay sharp, Elena. People are circling."
"Always," she said, but her stomach twisted. Byano was her rock, but even rocks could crack under pressure.
As she hung up, her assistant, Priya, knocked. "Elena, Victoria's here. Says it's urgent."
Elena's jaw tightened. Her mother rarely visited the office, and when she did, it was never good. "Send her in."
Victoria swept in, her designer coat draped over her arm, her perfume sharp and expensive. "Elena, darling, we need to talk." Her tone was syrupy, but her eyes were calculating.
"What's this about, Mom?" Elena crossed her arms, bracing for the storm.
Victoria sat, uninvited, on a leather chair. "Your father's being unreasonable. This divorce—it's going to affect you all. I need you to talk to him, make him see sense."
Elena's laugh was sharp. "Sense? You mean give you half his fortune? I'm not your messenger, Mom."
Victoria's smile didn't waver. "You're his favorite, Elena. He listens to you. And Marcus—he needs support. I'm fighting for him."
"Bullshit," Elena snapped, her patience fraying. "You're fighting for a payout. Marcus needs us, not your schemes."
Victoria's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Elena. You're not as untouchable as you think. EcoThreads relies on your father's funding, doesn't it?"
The threat landed like a slap. Byano had seeded Elena's startup, but she'd repaid every cent, building EcoThreads on her own terms. Still, Victoria's words stung, implying Elena's success was borrowed. "Get out," Elena said, her voice low. "This is my space."
Victoria stood, smoothing her coat. "You'll regret siding with him."
As she left, Elena's hands trembled. She sank into her chair, the contract forgotten. Victoria's audacity wasn't new, but her willingness to drag the family into her war was escalating. Elena thought of Marcus, his haunted eyes at dinner, and Sophia, pouring her heart into her art. They deserved better than a mother who saw them as pawns.
She threw herself into work, meeting with her design team to review prototypes. But Victoria's visit lingered, a dark cloud. By afternoon, Elena drove to Byano's office, needing his clarity. She found him in his glass-walled fortress, papers strewn across his desk, Harlan at his side. "Dad, we need to talk."
Byano looked up, his face etched with fatigue. "Victoria?"
"She came to my office. Tried to guilt me into helping her divorce case. She's getting desperate."
Harlan grunted. "She's not the only one. Kessler's meeting with that rival again. And that email you got—still no source."
Byano rubbed his temples. "Elena, keep your distance from her. She's playing dirty."
"I can handle her," Elena said, but doubt crept in. She pitched her supplier deal, Byano's feedback sharp and insightful, but her mind kept drifting to Marcus. "Dad, have you talked to him today?"
Byano's expression softened. "This morning. He's struggling. I'm trying, Elena, but..."
"I know." She squeezed his hand. "We'll get him through this."
As she left, her phone pinged—a forwarded message from Byano: Another anonymous email. 'Your family's falling apart, Byano. Who's next?' Elena's heart raced. Someone was targeting them, and Victoria's interference was only the beginning.
Cliffhanger: Elena receives a call from Sophia, frantic—Marcus is missing after leaving a cryptic note.