The two technicians stared at Clara, frozen in their ergonomic chairs. The glow of a dozen monitors painted their pale faces in hues of electric blue and stark white. Below them, visible through the soundproof glass, the auditorium was a sea of thousands, all hanging on Julian Vance’s every word.

"

Julian groaned, his perfectly styled hair now a tangled mess, a thin line of blood trickling from his nose where it had struck the stage. He writhed under Damian’s grip, but the billionaire venture capitalist didn't yield an inch.

"You orchestrated this, Thorne," Julian spat, his eyes wide and fev