Pyramid Schemes on the Court

The cat watched from atop the luxury cabana, golden eyes tracking the rhythmic thwack of racquet against ball. Elena didn't notice the animal—she was too busy calculating her next move, both on the padel court and in her career.

The Dubai resort stretched before them, artificial **palm** trees swaying in the manufactured breeze. Opposite her stood Richard, forty minutes her senior, the man whose promotion she'd secured three months ago through careful documentation of his missteps. Now he grinned across the net, sweat darkening his polo collar.

"Your backhand's improved," he called, extending his palm for a high-five she pretended not to see.

"Practice," she said, though her practice had been the annual review, the restructuring proposal, the quiet dismantling of his department. Corporate hierarchies were just pyramids built of ambition and compromise, and she'd learned to climb them by understanding what people thought she didn't see.

The cat leaped down as they switched sides, padding along the heated stone. It reminded her of Marcus, her ex, who'd collected strays in their London flat before she'd accepted the transfer. He'd called her ruthless. He'd said she climbed over people like they were stepping stones.

"You're going to make Director," Richard said, gesturing to his missing front teeth with a smile she recognized as helpless. He knew what she'd done, and he knew he couldn't prove it. Some men found power intoxicating, even when it was exercised against them. "After what you pulled in Q3, you're going straight up the pyramid."

"I did what was necessary," she said, swinging her padel racquet.

"Necessary," he repeated, and something in his tone made her pause. "Marcus used that word when he explained why he left."

The cat wound through her legs, purring. Elena looked at Richard—really looked at him—and saw what Marcus must have seen in her: the careful calculation, the absence of hesitation, the climbing instinct that couldn't be turned off even when she wanted to.

"Your serve," she said, but her voice cracked, just once.

Richard served into the net. The cat watched them both, and for the first time in years, Elena wondered what it would mean to stop climbing.