The drive home from Summit Crest Group’s headquarters was executed in total, absolute silence. Rain lashed against the windshield of my seven-year-old sedan, the wipers screeching rhythmically against the glass. T

Six months after Nora took full executive control of Summit Crest Group, the corporate world had largely adapted to the new order. However, quiet waters often harbor unseen currents. While Gavin was slowly coming to terms with his stripped-down life, Camila Vega had spent her time in Florida nursing a burning, venomous resentment.

She couldn't accept that her path to luxury had been obliterated in a single morning. More importantly, she knew secrets about Summit Crest’s early offshore acquisitions—secrets she had stumbled upon while working as Gavin’s assistant and mistaking his pillow talk for leverage.

In late November, as Boston prepared for the first snowfall of the season, Camila returned to the city. She didn't come to seek forgiveness. She came armed with a manufactured extortion scheme.

An urgent, confidential document was delivered directly to Nora’s private residence in Wellesley. Inside was a flash drive containing distorted internal communications from four years ago, selectively edited to make it appear that Arthur Sterling had engaged in illegal offshore tax evasion during the initial funding of Summit Crest’s expansion. Attached was a handwritten note from Camila:

"Ten million dollars in an offshore account by Friday, Nora, or these documents go straight to the Department of Justice and every major business journal in the country. Let’s see how strong your father’s perfect legacy looks when he’s branded a federal criminal."

Nora sat at her study desk, staring at the screen. The threat was clear: Camila was trying to weaponize the memory of Arthur Sterling to force a massive payout, exploiting the fact that dead men cannot defend their reputations in the court of public opinion.

Instead of panicking, Nora called Marcus Vance immediately.

"She’s bluffing with altered metadata," Marcus observed after spending two hours analyzing the files with his forensic digital team. "These emails were spliced using old internal templates. But if she leaks them to the press, the media circus alone could temporarily freeze Summit Crest’s international trading licenses."

"Camila thinks I’m still the quiet, fearful wife who hides when threatened," Nora said, her voice dropping into an icy, focused register. "She thinks my father’s legacy is a fragile glass vase. She doesn't realize it’s made of steel."

"What’s your move, Nora?" Marcus asked.

Nora looked out the window at the falling snow. "Set up a meeting with her for tomorrow evening at the Beacon Hill club. Tell her I will bring the payment authorization in person."