Now, the world was moving fast, and I was the one directing the pace.

The flight to Boston was short but turbulent.

The small charter plane bumped through the heavy storm clouds.

I spent the forty minutes reviewing the transfer files of our new clients.

These were people who had trusted King Holdings for a decade.

Now, they were terrified of being associated with a federal fraud case.

They wanted safety, transparency, and a clean name.

I could give them all three.

When we landed at Logan Airport, the rain was just as relentless as it had been in New York.

A town car was waiting to take me to the office in the Back Bay.

The brick townhouses looked dark and sleek under the wet streetlamps.

Our office was located on the third floor of a converted brownstone.

Unlike Elias’s glass skyscraper, this place felt warm.

There were exposed brick walls, soft lighting, and the smell of fresh coffee.

Sarah met me at the door, holding a stack of folders.

Her hair was pulled back, and she looked exhausted but energized.