When I told Eddie Griffin I’d be presenting in front of the Ruby Five, he blinked hard, as if I'd casually mentioned plans to juggle chainsaws.

  “How in the world did you pull that off?”

  To him, I’m still the wide-eyed girl he read The Wizard of Oz to—brilliant, lovely, but untouched by danger.

  Yet, Eddie’s no fool. He’s held the reins of Hightower Group in the Ruby Republic longer than most survive. He knows the Red Party’s politics aren’t just treacherous—they're ritualistic, coded, carnivorous. A theater where one wrong line gets you eaten alive. And now, standing a few paces from me, he watches with the quiet dread of a man who's brought his favorite niece to a shark tank.

  Before me sit five men—pillars of power in a nation of more than a billion people. I’ve fucked one of them. And if I want to launch my coin, I may have to sleep with one or two more. The calculus of power is rarely elegant.

  One of them, the lanky one with a face like stretched dough, oily glasses and a smile like spoiled meat? I've already mentally stamped him with a bright red "ABSOLUTELY NOT." His mere presence makes my skin crawl.

  Another, the youngest-looking, wears a kind smile and encouraging eyes. I wouldn't mind him in bed. Even if they're all rotten beneath their titles, this one at least doesn't make me want to go shower now.

  The one in the middle plays strongman with his posture and tone, but I can see the cracks. Insecurity woven into his confidence like hairline fractures in polished glass.

  To his right sits a cold and stern figure like a knife. His piercing gaze doesn't just undress you—it can literally kill a man.

  Naturally, I know all their names and titles—everyone does. I've done my thorough research, plus I have privileged insights from Lyra’s whisper network.

  She bedded all of them. Leave one out and you birth an enemy with unlimited reach.

  Behind them, in the second row, sit two lesser stars in this constellation of control. Xiaobo Zhou, the central bank governor—he's the reason I have to endure this ordeal. And on the other side, Xialai Bo, the youngest of the group, with his serious brow and cautious demeanor, possesses an unassuming charm that almost seems out of place.

  Then there's Keyang. He leans forward and offers me a gentle smile—a carefully calibrated gesture of support. "Don't be nervous. We're here to learn from you," he says, as if we're at a friendly seminar and not a high-stakes power play.

  The others nod. A few of them are clearly unsettled, caught off guard by the Prime Minister introducing such a young foreign woman into their inner sanctum.

  I slightly bow—just enough deference without surrendering power. "Honorable leaders of the Ruby Republic, it's a privilege to meet you in person—and in such an elegant setting. Please allow me to express my admiration and sincere congratulations on the extraordinary growth the Ruby Republic has achieved these past three years." Flattery: the universal language.

  I reference Morgan Debois's technical presentation from last week, then pivot: "Today, I want to discuss how blockchain might serve this great nation—not just as infrastructure, but as leverage." The word 'leverage' makes their eyes sharpen. Power recognizes power.

  The pitch is swift, deliberate. I present two distinct offerings: first, the stablecoin, designed to enhance RMB's flexibility and influence in international trade. Then, the appreciation potential of Hightower Coin, backed by Sanguine Institute's recent breakthroughs. All without saying the obvious: We're going to make you even richer while protecting your wealth from both your successors' ambitions and foreign government scrutiny.

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  I close with a second bow. “Thank you for your attention. I won’t take more of your time, but I welcome your questions.”

  The room holds its breath. Everyone is waiting on Xi—that's protocol.

  "Good talk." He smiles. Just that. Two words that unlock a vault. The tension softens, the air warms. "Ms. Hightower is young and talented." In their language, this is equivalent to a standing ovation.

  "Any questions?" Xi glances left, then right. "Qiuhan, you're the expert here. Your thoughts?"

  Qiuhan cuts a look at Keyang Li before speaking—a silent acknowledgment of territory. "Hightower is an American company. How do you ensure your operations aren't subject to American government’s influence?"

  He’s struck the nerve. The weakest link. Toughest objection to deflect.

  The Ruby Republic maintains strict control over their enterprises and entrepreneurs, naturally assuming other nations govern their businesses with similar authority.

  "Sanguine Institute is founded and operated entirely within the Ruby Republic," I reply, my voice steady as a surgeon's hand. "Subject to its laws, its regulations. Hightower Group is merely a stakeholder. We're actively inviting local investors to increase their share—and we welcome state-owned capital."

  Qiuhan's expression lifts at the last part. State-owned capital on the board of directors—better than anything Yuan Ma proposed.

  But he presses on. “Then why not launch a coin wholly owned by the state—or at least Ruby Republic investors? Wouldn’t that be better for the nation?”

  “Global reach,” I answer. “Foreign investment has powered your nation's extraordinary growth. Blockchain is a global arena. A coin backed purely by domestic capital can’t compete at scale.”

  He weighs that, then nods slowly, approval flickering. Lyra had briefed me: Unlike Bao Fang, Qiuhan cares less about whose coin it is—only which brings the strongest return. Hightower’s brand, backed by biotech, promises exactly that.

  Keyang already placed his bet by bringing me into the room. Qiuhan can’t lock us out now. Better to grab a share.

  “Xiaobo, the Central Bank had concerns about crypto coins, didn’t it?” Qiuhan Wang turns, addressing the Governor.

  “Yes, Secretary Qiuhan,” the man who once refused even a meeting now replies with bowed deference.

  “We’ve seen a flood of malicious speculation—empty coins, copycats, Ponzi schemes. The crypto space is riddled with it.”

  “Fraud stains every corner of the financial sector,” Keyang cuts in, sending Xiaobo a pointed look. “But that’s no reason to discard innovation wholesale. We shouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater." In the Red Party, quoting Karl Marx serves as an effective way to settle an argument. Even if Marx never actually said it.

  “Quite right, Prime Minister.” Xiaobo concedes. Despite being Qiuhan’s man, he still falls under Keyang’s authority.

  "I think we might be overlooking the larger picture." Yan Wang speaks up—the most striking of the five, uninvolved but influential. Heads turn like synchronized swimmers.

  He is one of the technocrats who once governed Guangdong Province. Among the five, he knows most about technology.

  "Biotech is advancing at a breakneck pace, and the Republic is falling behind." He looks respectfully toward Xi. "Sanguine Institute leads this frontier. If they welcome state-owned investment, we could gain immensely in the coming technological revolution." The words 'falling behind' land like carefully placed explosives.

  Xi ponders for a moment, then nods decisively. "Agreed." He turns to the minister on his right. "Xialai, connect Ms. Hightower with investors driving innovation in biotech."

  He looks to me, voice firm. “Ms. Hightower, Ruby Republic welcomes you. I hope you achieve great things for our nation. In the history of our party, many foreign friends—Bethune, Snow—became part of that legacy. The people remember them.”

  Then, to Xiaobo: "We must take technology seriously. Study earnestly. Support what deserves support, regulate what demands regulation. You and Xialai should coordinate—make sure the people's interests are protected."

  Eddie Griffin finally exhales. I smile to both ministers, “We will, of course, operate within the law. And welcome your guidance.”

  As the ministers murmur among themselves, the meeting dissolves into a choreography of nods, handshakes, and coded glances. Eddie moves to my side, relief softening the lines around his eyes. But I barely feel the room anymore. Something colder, sharper is settling into place.

  Because this wasn’t just approval.

  It was an invitation.

  And an invitation from men like these is never free.

  As I step back from the table, Qiuhan’s gaze lingers on me—not predatory, not paternal, but calculating. Measuring. As if he’s already slotting me into the machinery of the Republic, a new cog with a glossy foreign finish.

  When I exit the chamber, the heavy doors closing behind me, the air outside tastes different—thinner, charged, almost metallic. Eddie whispers, “You did it.”

  But I know better.

  I didn’t do it.

  I just stepped onto a stage where every spotlight burns, every shadow hides a knife, and every victory demands a price.

  And now the Ruby Republic is watching to see what I’ll pay.