The Mo family estate outside London was a contrast to the Yun compound. Where the Yun favored opulent tradition, the Mo estate was a study in minimalist, brutalist architecture—all sharp angles, concrete, and glass. It was a fortress of modernism, reflecting a family that looked only forward.
Matriarch Mo sat in her stark white study, a single orchid the only splash of color. Before her, on a large monitor, was a dossier on Ye Xia. It was hundreds of pages long, compiled by a private intelligence agency that cost more than most national budgets.
"The initial capital remains an anomaly," her chief analyst, a man named Sterling, was saying. "It appears to have been generated from a series of micro-transactions too small and too numerous to trace. As if money was created from nothing."
"Nothing comes from nothing, Sterling," the Matriarch said, her voice like the scraping of stone.
"Of course, Matriarch. The prevailing theory is an undiscovered digital currency exploit, now patched. But her subsequent spending is even more illogical. She consistently makes large-scale purchases and investments that have no apparent financial merit. She seems to be… burning money. Yet, her personal wealth grows at an exponential rate."
The Matriarch's thin fingers tapped on the glass desk. "And my grandson's interest?"
"He provides her with strategic advice and, we believe, limited operational support. Their communications are heavily encrypted, but sentiment analysis suggests a growing personal attachment."
A cold fury settled in the Matriarch's gut. Mo was the family's greatest asset. His system, the Benevolence Engine, was a sacred trust, passed down through a rare genetic line. It had to be managed, controlled, its output directed for the maximum benefit of the Mo legacy. An emotional attachment to an unpredictable variable like Ye Xia was a catastrophic risk.
"She is a corruption," the Matriarch declared. "A flaw in the algorithm. She must be removed from the equation."
"Removed, Matriarch?" Sterling asked, his face neutral.
"Not eliminated," she said, though the option had been considered. "That would turn Mo against us irrevocably. She must be discredited. Ruined. Her mysterious wealth must be shown to be illusory or illegitimate. She must be rendered a liability in his eyes."
"That will be difficult. Her financials are now backed by the Yun legacy assets. She is legally unassailable."
"No one is unassailable," the Matriarch replied. "Everyone has a pressure point. Find hers. Is there family? Friends?"
"Her immediate family is estranged and financially broken. There is one individual from her past… a girl named Lin Wanwan. They were once close. There is significant enmity there."
The Matriarch's eyes glinted. "A thread. Pull it. Offer this Lin Wanwan a way to restore her family's fortune. In exchange for information. For a performance."
"And if she refuses?"
"Everyone has a price, Sterling. Especially those who have lost everything. Find hers."
Sterling bowed and left the room. The Matriarch turned to look out the window at the manicured grounds. Mo was her masterpiece, but even masterpieces could develop cracks. Ye Xia was a wedge in that crack. She would be hammered out, no matter the cost. The balance of the Mo family's power, a power that quietly shaped global aid and, by extension, global politics, depended on it.