The air inside the dimly lit conference room felt heavy. Neon Dominion sprawled out beneath the skyscraper, its lights flickering like distant, nervous whispers. The table was packed with the Syndicate's most influential figures. At the head, the Boss sat with his hands resting casually on the surface, the rings on his fingers catching the soft glow from the holographic lights overhead. Dominic Sarros sat nearby, his face calm but his eyes sharp, watching every move with quiet intensity.

Across the table, the rookie sat—new, but not naïve. Dominic's gaze lingered on her, narrow and calculating. Too competent. Too ambitious. She had risen through the ranks faster than anyone he'd seen, and it didn't sit right. Years of work, of maneuvering, could be threatened by someone like her. He studied her posture: calm, almost too calm. If it was confidence, it irritated him. If it was something else, it worried him.

The Boss broke the silence with a smooth voice, the kind that demanded attention. "You've both proven yourselves," he began, his words deliberate, his gaze moving between the two of them. "The Syndicate is expanding. Human and android trafficking is thriving, but there's more ground to cover. You two are my best shot at taking us to the next level."

Dominic didn't flinch, but the weight of the words hit. This wasn't a suggestion—it was a directive.

The Boss continued, leaning back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "Dominic, you've got the experience. And you..." His gaze shifted toward her. "Your tactics have been... unexpected, but effective. You complement each other. Competition, after all, keeps us sharp."

Dominic's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "If that's what you think is best." The words came out smooth, but there was an edge to them. He didn't bother to hide the irritation buried beneath his carefully measured tone.

The Boss chuckled, his amusement filling the room. "Oh, Dominic, don't take it so hard. This is for the Syndicate's future. You'll come around."

Dominic leaned back, his eyes locked on her. The irritation hadn't faded, and his stare carried something darker—a warning. She didn't look away, her expression calm, her presence composed in a way that made his skin crawl. She wasn't scared. That alone set her apart from most in the room.

"I'll make it work," Dominic finally said, the words sliding out like ice. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips. "We're both professionals, after all."

The Boss nodded, clearly satisfied with the answer. "Good. I expect results. Remember, the Syndicate rewards success..." His gaze sharpened momentarily. "But it doesn't forgive failure." With that, he stood and left, the sound of the sliding door echoing through the room.

The quiet that followed was louder than anything spoken. Dominic rose, his gaze fixed on her as he crossed the table. When he spoke, his voice was low, each word deliberate. "Don't think for a second that this will be easy. If you're planning to take my place, you'll regret it."