The conclusion came quickly—too quickly. For Sean, there was only one name that made sense.
Clara.
He stared at the digital board in his office. The connecting lines converged at the single point he considered most logical: Leo. And behind Leo, of course, was Clara.
"She learned from me," Sean muttered.
"She knows how I work."
He ignored one crucial fact: Clara never played dirty like he did. But Sean had never been good at distinguishing between morality and strategy. To him, everyone was just waiting for their turn to become as ruthless as he was.
Sean grabbed his car keys without giving any orders. No plan. No assistant.
This wasn't a business matter.
This was a matter of a wounded ego.
★★★
Clara's apartment was already lit up when Sean arrived. This time, he didn't ring the doorbell politely.
The first knock was loud.
The second knock made several residents open their doors.
"CLARA!" Sean's voice echoed down the hallway. "Open the door!"
Soon after, the door opened.
