Who demonstrate absolute control.
Who show they can acquire something precious and train it to perfection.
My business is successful.
My company is worth three billion dollars.
I have money, influence, connections, but I don't have real power.
Not the kind that moves nations.
Not the kind that protects you from anything and everything.
Not the kind that makes you untouchable.
The inner circle has that power.
And I've wanted it since the moment I understood it existed.
My father died bankrupt.
Destroyed by men who had more power than he did.
Men who crushed his business, his reputation, and his life with casual cruelty.
I was fifteen, and my entire world fell apart.
Everyone left… everyone except Mrs. Silva, who said she’d never abandon me.
Even when she wasn’t getting paid, when we were broke as all hell, she stayed.
She stayed through the roughest parts of my life.
Watched him drink himself to death over eighteen months because he couldn't recover.
Couldn't fight back. Couldn't protect what was his.
I swore I'd never be that powerless.
Swore I'd never let anyone have that kind of power over me.
Swore I'd become untouchable.
And the Consortium's inner circle is how you become untouchable.
How you ensure no one can ever destroy you the way my father was destroyed.
Victor Hargrove. Geoffrey Morrison. Richard Blackwell.
The other eight whose names carry weight in rooms that matter.
They control everything.
And they've been watching me for five years, waiting to see if I'm worthy of joining them.
The showcase is my final test.
If I can prove I can acquire and train an acquisition to their standards, I'm in.
