50

50

Derek stared at the now silent phone, his pulse pounding in his ears. Everything was falling apart faster than he could manage. Allvar had gotten the upper hand, and Marcus had turned into an unexpected liability.

His mind was spinning—this wasn’t supposed to happen. Marcus was out, Allvar had won a high-profile job, and everything was spiraling out of his control.

But the worst part? He hadn’t just failed to keep Allvar down. He’d made him stronger.

Derek swore under his breath. “Damn it,” he muttered, clenching his fists. There had to be something he could do. 'Anything.'

Just as he began pacing, trying to force his brain to think of a solution, a sharp knock at his office door snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Who is it?” he barked, his patience running thin.

Fiona, his ever-persistent assistant, stepped in cautiously. Her usual crisp confidence was tinged with anxiety as she took in Derek’s disheveled state. “Mr. Hawthorne, are you alright? You look—”

“Not now, Fiona,
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