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Chapter 1 - The Strike

The slap cracked through the glass-paneled atrium like a gunshot, freezing fifty junior associates dead in their tracks.

A ream of ninety-pound ledger paper fluttered through the air like wounded doves, blank white sheets drifting down across polished Italian marble. Elena’s head snapped sideways from the impact. The metallic tang of blood bloomed instantly against the inside of her lip, her vision swimming behind sudden, scalding tears.

Brenda Sterling didn't blink. The senior operations director leaned forward, her face inches from Elena's burning skin, breath hot and sharp with stale hazelnut espresso.

"You deaf, useless little bitch," Brenda hissed, her diamond rings catching the fluorescent morning glare. "I told you skim milk, half-caff, ten minutes ago. You think an internship here means standing around waiting for a gold star? I asked you a question. What the hell are you still doing by the printer?"

Elena raised her fingers to her cheek. It was pulsing crimson. Around them, the open-floor bullpen was a graveyard of terrified silence. Men in five-thousand-dollar bespoke suits glued their eyes to spreadsheets; paralegals pretended to inspect cold cups of takeout coffee. Nobody looked. Nobody ever crossed Brenda Sterling.

"I didn't take this job to run your dry cleaning or fetch your coffee, Brenda," Elena whispered, her chest heaving, voice raw but distinct. "I took it to learn global logistics."

Brenda’s manicured brow twitched. A high, ugly laugh cut out of her throat. "Logistics? You aren't even dirt on the bottom of my Christian Louboutins. You’re a temp. A charity hire. Get down on your hands and knees and pick up every single one of those sheets before I have security throw you out into the street."

"No," Elena said.

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Brenda raised her hand a second time, knuckles white, rage twisting her features into a feral mask. "You insolent little—"

Before the palm could fall, Elena pulled a matte-pink iPhone from the pocket of her tailored trousers. Her thumb tapped a single button on speed dial.

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