Chapter Eleven: Cracks in the Armor

The hum of the city was muted as Victor stepped into the war room, where a quiet storm of activity swirled around him. Angela stood at the head of the table, her sleeves rolled up and her sharp eyes scanning a series of documents and charts. The team, tense but focused, exchanged whispers over glowing screens.

Angela turned to Victor as he entered. "We've confirmed it," she said without preamble, holding up a slim file. "David Kane's firm is pumping cash into Lumina through offshore accounts. They're clever about it, but not flawless."

Victor didn't sit, instead leaning against the edge of the table, flipping through the pages of the file. "How close is this to Jared?" he asked, his voice low.

Angela hesitated. "Not directly linked yet, but it's only a matter of time. If Kane falls, it'll ripple back to Lumina. But we need more—something concrete that ties Jared to the money."

Victor's jaw tightened as he studied the data. "This isn't about just damaging Lumina. It's about destabilizing them. Make them question their foundation. Question him."

Angela leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to match his. "There's unrest in his ranks. One of his engineers—Thomas Crane—has been grumbling. Frustration with Jared's leadership. If we push, he might break."

Victor's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "And what does Crane want?"

"He's ambitious," Angela said. "Feels underappreciated. He could be useful if handled right."

Victor straightened, his gaze hardening. "Set it up. Quietly."

Angela nodded and left the room, phone already in hand. The rest of the team exchanged glances, sensing the unspoken command: the war had escalated.

By mid-afternoon, Victor was reviewing the files again, this time with Amanda Grayson, his legal advisor. She sat opposite him in his glass-walled office, her sharp, no-nonsense demeanor matching his own.

"Jared's playing the long game," Amanda said, tapping her pen against the edge of the folder. "If you make the wrong move, he'll twist it into a martyr's narrative. You need precision here, not force."

Victor leaned back, his expression calm but his tone edged with steel. "Martyrs are only powerful if they inspire loyalty. If we fracture that loyalty, his narrative collapses."

Amanda tilted her head, considering. "So, what's your play?"

"Leverage," Victor said simply. "Everyone has a breaking point. We just need to find his."

She nodded, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes. "You're taking a risk, Victor. If this backfires—"

"It won't," Victor interrupted, his voice firm. "This isn't just about him. It's about everyone watching. I can't afford to look weak."

Amanda held his gaze for a moment before standing. "Then I'll start tightening the screws."

Victor watched her leave, his mind already spinning through the next steps. He glanced at his watch, counting the hours until Angela would report back. Time was a weapon, and he intended to wield it carefully.

That evening, Angela sent Victor a coded message: Crane is in. Wants to meet. Discretion guaranteed.

Victor replied instantly. Set it for tomorrow. Keep it quiet.

The next day, Victor arrived at a discreet café in the Lower East Side. He'd chosen the location himself—anonymous enough for privacy but public enough to lower Crane's guard.

Crane was already seated at a corner table, fidgeting with his coffee cup. He was younger than Victor expected, with a sharp, restless energy. The kind of man who thought he deserved more but lacked the patience to wait for it.

Victor approached with the measured confidence of someone used to control. Crane stood, unsure whether to extend a hand, and Victor nodded instead as he sat down.

"Mr. Crane," Victor began, his tone calm but authoritative. "Thank you for meeting me."

Crane swallowed, clearly nervous but eager. "Of course. I—uh—I appreciate the opportunity to talk."

Victor leaned back slightly, studying him. "You've been at Lumina for what? Two years?"

"Eighteen months," Crane corrected quickly, then flushed. "I joined because… well, it seemed like a chance to do something meaningful."

"And now?" Victor asked, his voice soft but piercing.

Crane hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "Now it feels like I'm just a pawn in Jared's game. He's chasing some grand idea, but it's reckless. The team's stretched thin. The investors are getting restless. And Jared…" He trailed off, glancing away.

Victor leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Crane's. "And Jared?"

Crane's voice dropped. "He doesn't listen. He's so focused on the story he wants to tell, he's ignoring the cracks forming underneath him."

Victor allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. "And you? Where do you fit in?"

"I don't know anymore," Crane admitted. "But I'm not going down with the ship if it sinks."

Victor nodded, satisfied. "Good. Because I can offer you a way out. A way forward."

Crane blinked, surprise flickering across his face. "You mean…"

Victor's smile widened. "I mean opportunity. Stability. Recognition for your talents. All I need from you is the truth about what's happening inside Lumina."

Crane hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "I'll tell you everything."

Victor leaned back, his satisfaction masked by a calm, professional exterior. "Good. We'll be in touch."

As Victor left the café, the crisp night air bristling around him, he felt the familiar rush of control returning. Jared's fortress wasn't as impenetrable as it seemed. And now, Victor had a foot in the door.

It wasn't about one decisive strike. It was about a series of precise moves, each one bringing Jared closer to collapse.

Victor's phone buzzed with a message from Angela: Crane's intel already proving valuable. More updates coming.

Victor smirked, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

The cracks were widening, and it was only a matter of time before the entire structure fell.