At just thirty-seven, Lyra Jar the CFO of WindCore Group has earned a reputation that sends shivers down Wall Street's spine.
"They say her Excel models can break the will of any investment bank. She doesn't have a heart, just profit targets that double every fiscal year."
And yet, this iron-blooded woman, who runs a $70 billion empire without blinking, is now standing in a glass conference room in the headquarters corner. Two thin documents lie before her: politically engineered marriage contracts disguised as "strategic alliances."
The boardroom vultures have finally dropped their masks. They want to tag her like merchandise. Turn her from CFO into a pawn available for "sale" through matrimony.
One analyst muttered: "If she can't deliver within three years, WindCore gets scrapped. No fission, no future. But who the hell knows how to blur black and white, east and west, and survive the fallout?"
He wasn't wrong. Lyra had no rebuttal.
Because WindCore was never built for profit. It was always a white-glove operation designed to extend reach, not revenue. Now, with the geopolitical winds shifting, the threat isn't about cash-flow or market share. It's bloodless wars in boardrooms and back channels.
The cruelest irony? Her elders claim they "take good care" of her enough to offer marriage as a soft landing.
Option one: Failed.
Watch the empire crumble and become the perfect political bride, packaged with a bow and a sexist footnote: "Women don't rule empires."
Option two: Go rogue.
Play the one hand no one expects. She needs a wildcard. Something or someone sharp can cut through contracts and kingdoms alike.
Enter: Arthur Graves.
Umbra CEO. Uncrowned king of the global PMC underworld. The Dallas Wolf. Untamed, dangerous, hungry. But maybe the one who can help her shatter the trap. If she is able to tame him first.