Monday arrived, buzzing with electric tension.
The IPR House auditorium was swarming with media houses, sponsors, executives, influencers, and every high-ranking industry watcher you could imagine. Outside, fans screamed Zoey's name, their placards shaking in the wind like war flags.
The grand finale of the IPR Show was more than a competition — it was the moment careers were birthed, companies made history, and codes were distributed like royalty handing out kingdoms.
Inside, cameras flashed. Lights bathed the stage in gold. The six finalists stood side by side, each in their finest.
Zoey Scandova stood tall in her custom burnt-orange blazer dress, her curls bouncing under the spotlight, a calm but focused glint in her eyes.
"Each of these finalists," the announcer declared, "has shown brilliance, strategy, and unshakable drive. They've earned not only our respect but life-changing rewards."
Cheers followed as the finalists were handed envelopes stuffed with thousands of Dollars, hampers from luxury brands, and golden opportunity contracts. But the true climax was yet to come.
The announcer stepped forward again, drawing out the tension like a symphony's final note.
"And now… the winner of this year's IPR Code... the one whose pitch, execution, and results shook the industry this year—"
Pause. Silence. A drumroll.
"Zoey Scandova of McKrapper Foods."
The hall exploded.
The crowd rose in one movement, people screaming, standing on chairs, cameras catching every blink of Zoey's stunned expression as she brought her hands to her mouth. Corelle screamed beside her, gripping her wrist.
"Girl, you did that!" Corelle shrieked, jumping up and down.
Zoey blinked, heart pounding. "Wait—me?! Me? They called my name?"
"You better walk that stage, queen," Corelle said, literally pushing her forward.
Zoey strode across the stage with poise, accepting the shining IPR Code plaque. Applause thundered. She couldn't even hear the rest of the speech.
For the first time, a debuting company had stepped in and conquered the arena.
McKrapper Foods had just made history, and Zoey's name was now sealed in golden ink. They had unlocked their first intra-continental code, a major feat, and within days, their stocks and product orders began to rise like steam off boiling oil.
Later that evening at the winner's cocktail party…
"Zo, I swear my mom called and cried," Corelle said between sips of bubbly. "She said, 'Tell Zoey I'm frying chicken in her honor.'"
Zoey laughed, holding her glass with a graceful smirk. "Well, I hope it's McKrapper chicken."
Corelle smirked. "Of course. She even asked me where to apply."
That night, Zoey was approached by four different companies offering partnerships, high-level management roles, and even relocation packages.
One offer came with a ₵300,000 signing bonus.
But Zoey, ever the composed queen, just smiled.
"I'm flattered," she told them. "But I belong to McKrapper."
That loyalty was why the company didn't hesitate. Exactly one week after her win, McKrapper Foods offered Zoey an all-expenses-paid luxury trip to Australia , part celebration, part tradition, as the executive board always vacationed there annually.
Private jet. Presidential suite. Spa bookings already confirmed.
Corelle helped her pack that Sunday evening.
"You better Facetime me every damn day, you hear?"
Zoey zipped her suitcase. "Girl, you'll be sick of me."
As they folded the last outfit, Corelle paused.
"Oh, did you hear? Sanchez Premier Foodz just unlocked a distribution code too."
Zoey looked up sharply. "Wait. What?"
"Yeah. It was on the business feed today. They didn't even make top three, so I'm confused how they pulled it."
Zoey's face hardened just slightly. "They didn't win anything... so how did they get a code?"
"Exactly," Corelle said, eyes narrowing. "There's talk of backdoor dealings. Someone on the board might've…"
Zoey didn't let her finish. She closed her suitcase slowly, expression unreadable.
"That's something I need to study when I'm back," she said, standing tall.
At the airport, McKrapper's private jet gleamed on the tarmac, engines humming like a beast ready to fly.
As Zoey walked toward it in a white trench coat and designer shades, cameras clicked. The security detail opened the door like she was royalty.
Before boarding, she turned back to Corelle, who had followed her to the gate.
"Hold things down while I'm away, okay?"
"You know I got you. But please don't come back married to some rich Aussie with a tan and an accent."
Zoey laughed. "No promises."
And with that, Zoey Scandova boarded her flight , not just to Australia, but to whatever heights were waiting beyond the clouds.
But even as she flew across continents, one question simmered in her mind like a storm:
How did Sanchez unlock that code?
And more importantly...
Who helped them do it?