The Crimson Hiers

The city of Ardent was a sleeping beast. It throbbed with the pulse of greed and despair from the glistening towers to the dark back alleyways. Tonight, when she stood in the lobby of the dilapidated office building of Innovatech, Lena St. James experienced both. She paced with her phone clamped to her ear, her heels clicking it the cracked tiles.

Her voice was tense as she said, "Raj, this pitch is everything." "We are done if Bluepeak does not make an investment. Are you aware of that?

Calm yet exhausted, Raj's voice echoed across the speaker. "I understand, Lena. To ensure the demo is flawless, I have been working on simulations every night this week. They will be impressed.

She whispered, "It must," as her eyes strayed to the fluorescent light that flickered overhead. "I will give you a call following the meeting."

After hanging up, she went outdoors to enjoy the refreshing evening breeze. Her automobile, a used sedan that sputtered as it idled, was waiting at the curb. Her fingers drummed uncomfortably on the steering wheel as she drove to Bluepeak Capital. It was this. Her final attempt to preserve her AI start-up, Innovatech, which aims to transform predictive healthcare analytics. If only someone had as much faith in the product as she did, it could save lives.

Ahead was the Bluepeak building, a contemporary steel and glass colossus. Lena entered the opulent foyer and smoothed her blazer. The marble flooring, the tall sculpture in the center, and the glossy smiles of staff members who had nothing to prove were all screaming signs of wealth and power.

"Ms. St. James?" demanded a clear voice.

Lena looked around and saw a receptionist pointing to an elevator. "The partners are on the twenty-eighth floor, waiting for you."

The ascent was an exercise in self-doubt. Lena gripped her tablet so firmly that her knuckles became white as she practiced her pitch one last time. A teenage assistant escorted her inside a large conference room as the doors slid open. Each of the three men seated at the table exuded authority.

The senior partner, Charles Greer, was flanked by Dan Rivers, a young analyst who seldom looked up from his phone, and Kelly Martin, a careful strategist.

"Ms. St. James," Greer said with a flimsy smile. "Please sit down."

The presentation got off to a decent start. As she described how Innovatech's AI platform, VanguardAI, might lower medical errors and improve hospital operations, Lena's voice grew steadier. She emphasized case studies from the actual world, anticipated earnings, and a strategic plan that showed her dedication to success.

However, her confidence started to falter as the questions began.

"How do you intend to contend with companies such as SynCor Global?" Kelly's tone was stern as she asked.

Lena responded, "We have carved out a niche by emphasizing real-time adaptation," but she could tell Kelly was not persuaded.

"And your runway for finances?" Greer went on.

"We are running lean, but with the appropriate investment-" Lena said after hesitating.

Greer interrupted her with a raised hand. I am grateful, Ms. St. James. We will communicate.

The courteous smiles did little to conceal their lack of interest, and the dismissal was sudden. Lena's heart sank as she collected her belongings. She was able to maintain her poise until she was outside, where the cool night air hit her like a slap.

Her hands shaking, she leaned against her car. That was it. The final ray of hope went out. Next month, she had no way to pay her skeleton workforce, no investors, and no money.

In her pocket, her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen, expecting Raj, but the number was strange. She answered against her better judgment.

"Lena St. James," she murmured in a tired tone.

A loud male voice, powerful and silky, answered. Sebastian Cross is my name, Ms. St. James. I speak for a group that is considering your work.

She scowled. "I apologize, but at this moment, I am not in the mood for cold calls."

Sebastian stated, "This is not a cold call." "The Crimson Circle has been keeping tabs on your development for a while. We think Innovatech has promise.

Lena stopped. She had heard rumors of the Crimson Circle, a covert organization of millionaires who are said to work in the background of international corporations. They had a legendary and terrible influence.

"What is the catch?" she said, her voice tinged with mistrust.

"Come to Summit Tower to meet me. Penthouse. "Midnight," Sebastian said. "Bring your deck of pitches."

The line died before she could reply.

Lena was standing outside Summit Tower at midnight, her nerves frazzled. With its glass exterior gleaming dimly against the night sky, the structure appeared to penetrate the heavens. As the doorman led her inside, she gripped her luggage.

She was whisked to the penthouse in the private elevator. She entered a spacious room that exuded richness as soon as the doors opened, with marble floors, gold accents, and glass walls that provided a stunning view of the city.

Sebastian Cross held a drink close to the window. His emerald eyes scrutinized her with a ferocity that left her feeling vulnerable, and his dark suit was perfectly cut.

He pointed to a seating place and said, "Ms. St. James."

Three more men stepped out of the shadows as she got closer. A millionaire playboy with a mischievous smile, Alec Sterling, leaned idly against the bar. A financier with a reputation for brutal efficiency, Nico Valtieri, gave her a chilly look. A relaxed tech tycoon named Kane Asher gave her a kind but almost inappropriate smile.

"This is quite the assembly," Lena remarked, sarcastically concealing her discomfort.

Sebastian grinned. The Crimson Circle only convenes to discuss important issues. We are intrigued by your business.

She sat down and said, "What do you want?"

Sebastian steepled his fingers as he sat opposite her. "We are willing to provide $50 million to Innovatech. We will accept a seat on your board and 40% of the shares in exchange.

A beat skipped in Lena's heart. The offer was more than she could have ever dreamed. However, the cost was high-too high.

"Fourty percent is ridiculous," she declared. "I refuse to cede control of my business."

Nico stated in a cold tone, "You're not in a position to negotiate."

Alec smiled. Consider it a collaboration. We provide protection in addition to money. Success in this world takes allies in addition to hard work.

"And adversaries," Lena retorted.

Sebastian leaned forward and looked straight ahead. Think about the other option. SynCor is in the process of acquiring your patents. They will bury you without our help.

There was silence in the room. Lena had the impression that she was perched on a precipice. Her lifeline was the offer from the Crimson Circle, but she was aware that it came with conditions that may choke her.

She stood up and said, "I need time to think."

Take your time, Sebastian said. "Such opportunities don't wait."

Her thoughts were racing as she walked out of the penthouse. A figure emerged from the shadows as she was halfway to her car.

The man said, "Ms. St. James," in a quiet voice. "A word of caution: avoid the Crimson Circle."

Her heart was racing when she turned. The man had a somber face and a dark outfit. She demanded to know who you were.

He remarked, "Someone who knows what they're capable of." "They don't spend money on people. They eat them. Get out of here while you can.

Lena stood beneath the streetlights before the man vanished into the night before she could ask him any more questions.

Her choice was more weighty than before.