The war room buzzed with a tense energy, the air thick with unspoken accusations and simmering distrust. Ava stood at the head of the table, her gaze sweeping over the faces of those she had once called her closest allies. The dim lighting cast sharp shadows across their features, making it difficult to read their expressions. But the doubt, the uncertainty—it was palpable. The very walls of the room seemed to pulse with it, as if the stone itself had absorbed the animosity.
"This plan is reckless!" Marcus's voice boomed, his fist slamming down on the table. "You're asking us to gamble everything on a hunch!"
Ava's eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. She knew Marcus was a man of logic, of calculated risks, but his outburst cut deeper than she cared to admit. This wasn't just about strategy—it was about trust. And his words were laced with a venom that struck at the core of her leadership.
