The cameras never followed Lena inside. The agents moved her quickly through a back entrance, past gray corridors, into a room that smelled of coffee and pressure. No windows. Just a table, two chairs, and a humming recorder in the corner.
Agent Morales set the folder down with deliberate care. "Sit."
Lena did, every muscle coiled tight.
He slid a pen across the table. "You know why you're here, insider trading. Market manipulation. Your name is on signatures that moved millions. That's prison time, Miss Voss."
She swallowed hard. "You think I engineered this? I'm not even"
"Don't play innocent." Morales leaned forward. "Tell me about Nathaniel Cross. Did he coerce you into signing? Did he manipulate the deal? Give me that, and maybe you walk out of here tonight."
The room went colder. He wanted her to turn on Nathaniel. Fast, Clean.
But Lena's phone vibrated in her coat, a single hidden buzz. She risked a glance when Morales looked away. A new text:
Say nothing. We're in the building.
Her pulse raced. Nathaniel's people? Or Adrian's trap?
Morales tapped the folder. "This is your only chance. Did Nathaniel Cross force you, yes or no?"
The recorder's red light blinked, waiting.