Black

I flicked on the morning news, the sterile glow bathing the room in an artificial light. The anchor's face, usually a picture of practised neutrality, held a flicker of surprise as she announced the headline: "John Cook's Business Empire in Turmoil." My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the news report. Details unfolded, a cascade of accusations, broken deals, and plummeting stock prices. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips, a small, almost feral victory dance in the confines of my sterile room.

Suddenly, a rap on the door shattered the silence. Before I could respond, Zephyr entered, her gaze sharp and assessing. "Interesting morning news," she remarked, her voice devoid of its usual coldness, laced instead with a hint of grudging respect.

"Indeed," I replied, the smirk still playing on my lips. "Seems John Cook's house of cards is finally collapsing."

She crossed her arms, her eyes boring into mine. "You used the system, didn't you?" It w
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