CHAPTER 105 — THE SOUND OF COLLAPSE
The collapse did not announce itself with chaos.
It began with silence.
Elena noticed it before dawn, in the brief hour when night had loosened its grip but morning had not yet asserted authority. The estate existed in that narrow in-between, where even the most disciplined routines softened. Phones that usually buzzed with updates remained still. No urgent briefings arrived. No overnight alerts demanded attention.
Silence, she had learned, was never neutral.
She stood alone in the study, the city beyond the window barely awake, its lights dimmed to a scattered glow. Somewhere beyond that horizon, people were scrambling—making calls they would later deny, drafting statements they would never release, searching for exits that did not yet exist.
The groundwork had been laid.
Now came the sound of collapse—not loud, not immediate, but inevitable.
When Marcus entered, his expression confirmed it.
"They're slowing," he said quietly.
