The Palm Reader's Warning

The cat sat on the windowsill of the cramped office, watching Elena with judgment in its yellow eyes. She'd been running the same spreadsheet analysis for six hours, her fingers hovering over the keyboard like she was approaching a bomb instead of quarterly projections.

"You're going to burn out," Marcus said, leaning against her doorframe. He was the senior VP, thirty years her senior, with a sphinx-like quality that made everyone wonder what he actually knew and what he only wanted you to think he knew.

"I'm fine," Elena said, not looking up. "Just finishing the audit."

"The audit that could destroy half the company if it leaks." His voice was neutral, but something in it made her palms sweat. She'd been a spy once—corporate espionage, clean and clinical, three years of stealing secrets before she'd gone straight. Or straighter. Marcus knew. He'd hired her because of it, not despite it.

"Who would leak it?" she asked.

"Someone who's been running parallel books." He dropped a file on her desk. "I found these in your old workstation. From before you were hired."

Elena's heart stopped. The file contained evidence of embezzlement, signed with her signature—but she'd never worked at this company before Marcus recruited her. Someone had framed her, and now Marcus was giving her a chance to destroy the evidence or expose it. The sphinx had offered her a choice, but it was no choice at all.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Fix it," he said, already walking away. "Like only you can."

The cat meowed, and Elena finally understood: someone was playing a much longer game than corporate theft. She was a pawn in someone else's match, and the only way to win was to stop playing by their rules.