The Lancaster Corp. boardroom had been designed to intimidate—forty feet of black glass table, walls paneled in dark walnut, and a skyline view that made even the most seasoned investors pause before speaking.
But today, no one at the table was looking at the view.
All eyes were on Clara Lancaster.
She stood at the head of the table, not with a stack of reports, but with a single sheet of paper. The understated move was deliberate—confidence wasn't shown through the weight of documents, but the weight of the silence she commanded.
"This," she said, laying the paper flat, "is where we cut him."
A few of the older directors leaned forward. The CFO, Robert Keaton, adjusted his glasses and squinted. "A trade press release?"
"Yes," Clara said. "Walker Group's latest victory lap—an exclusive ten-year supply contract with GlobalTech Shipping. On the surface, it looks unshakable. But underneath? It's rotten."
The Spark
For weeks, she'd let the Rhea scandal run its course, stabilizing her public image and re-securing her place on the Lancaster board. But she had never forgotten the humiliation Damien had engineered—the divorce, the leaks, the way he'd turned her life into an entertainment headline.
This was the chapter where she rewrote the story.
The Weak Point
She tapped the paper. "GlobalTech Shipping's last quarterly report is a fantasy. They've been covering rising freight losses with accounting tricks. If we destabilize them, the contract fails, Walker Group loses hundreds of millions in projected revenue, and Damien takes a credibility hit the markets won't forgive."
The COO frowned. "How destabilize? That's a big target."
"Markets run on confidence," Clara said. "We take that away first."
Alexander's Intervention
Alexander had been silent so far, sitting to her right in an impeccably cut navy suit. Now he spoke, voice measured. "Damien will see this as a direct act of war. You take two hundred million from him, he'll come for blood."
Clara didn't flinch. "Good. I want him in the open."
A flicker of approval crossed Alexander's face—but he didn't smile.
The War Room
The meeting ended with unanimous approval for her plan. But Clara didn't go home.
Instead, she gathered her inner circle in a smaller conference room: Evan, her operations head; Julia, her PR strategist; and Carter, her legal counsel.
"GlobalTech's biggest creditor?" Clara asked.
Evan didn't look up from his laptop. "Brenwick Capital. Mid-sized, cautious, reputation-conscious. They've got about 20% of GlobalTech's debt portfolio."
Julia leaned forward. "If Brenwick believes GlobalTech is at risk, they'll pull out fast."
Carter added, "Which would trigger covenant violations in GlobalTech's debt agreements. That alone could collapse the supply contract."
Clara's lips curved. "Then that's our opening."
Lighting the Match
They worked all night crafting three separate anonymous tips to carefully chosen financial journalists.
The headlines appeared forty-eight hours later:
Insiders Whisper of Losses at GlobalTech ShippingEquipment Failures Could Threaten Major Supply DealsSpeculation Mounts Over GlobalTech's Stability
Nothing definitive—just enough smoke to make the market sniff for fire.
GlobalTech's stock slipped 4% in a single day.
Damien's First Counter
That night, Clara's phone rang. She recognized the number instantly.
"You've been busy," Damien's voice was calm, but the underlying edge was unmistakable.
"Just reading the market," she said.
"You're playing in my lane, Clara. Be careful. The traffic here kills."
The line went dead.
Pressuring the Creditor
Three days later, Clara walked into Brenwick Capital's boardroom.
It was all polished chrome and minimalist furniture—an environment meant to project confidence.
She didn't waste time. "Lancaster's freight division can match GlobalTech's service at fifteen percent less cost, with zero operational losses in three years. We can take over any contract seamlessly."
One director asked, "And GlobalTech?"
Clara's voice was steady. "They're already underwater. You're too smart to go down with them."
Behind Damien's Doors(Intercut POV)
At Walker Group headquarters, Damien slammed the GlobalTech stock chart onto the table.
His COO, Gareth, said, "The leak is targeted. Someone's feeding Brenwick numbers."
Damien's jaw tightened. "Not someone. Clara."
"What's the move?"
"We cut her supply lines. Every Lancaster freight contract under review. Surprise inspections at her warehouses. And leak something that makes her board question her judgment."
The Retaliation
By Monday morning, three Lancaster freight contracts were frozen "pending review," a government inspection team had descended on their largest port facility, and the Financial Post published a "confidential" operations report—one that made Lancaster Corp look weaker than it was.
Alexander found her in her office, reading the report.
"He's telling you he can hit just as hard," he said.
Clara's eyes were cold. "Then we break his hand."
Turning the Knife
She pushed the GlobalTech narrative harder.
A second wave of leaks detailed failed shipments, missed deadlines, and customer complaints—all documented. Anonymous sources fed journalists insider stories, each timed to hit just before trading hours.
By Thursday, GlobalTech's stock had fallen another 7%. Brenwick Capital's board held an emergency session.
The Collapse
Friday morning, Clara's phone buzzed. It was Evan.
"Brenwick just pulled their financing from GlobalTech. They've signed with us. Confidential for now, but it's done."
She smiled slowly. "Release the announcement Monday. Let Damien sweat the weekend."
The Public Blow
Monday morning headlines blared:
Brenwick Capital Ends GlobalTech Partnership; Lancaster Corp Secures New Exclusive Supply Deal.
GlobalTech's stock crashed 18% in one day. Analysts downgraded Walker Group's quarterly outlook within hours.
On financial news segments, commentators openly questioned Damien's grip on his empire.
The Black Queen
That night, a package arrived at Clara's penthouse.
No return address.
Inside was a single chess piece—the queen—painted black.
And beneath it, a handwritten note:
Your move.
Clara turned the piece over in her hand, feeling the weight of it.
She didn't smile this time.
The war had just begun.