Leonard frowned. "What does that mean?"
Naomi met his gaze one last time. "It means when someone shows you who they are under pressure, you should believe them."
Leonard opened his mouth to respond, but an assistant hurried in, phone in hand, face pale. "Leonard," she said quietly. "You need to see this."
Leonard took the phone, glanced at the screen. His expression changed. Not anger. Not yet. But something close to confusion. Naomi watched closely because she recognized that look, too. It was the moment right before denial turns into fear, and she knew without a doubt that the room Leonard thought he controlled was no longer the only place decisions were being made.
Leonard stared at the phone like it had betrayed him. "What is this?" he asked, voice tight.
The assistant hesitated. "It's... it's an alert from Market Relations. Apex Meridian stock just dipped 1.8% in the last twenty minutes."
Leonard scoffed. "That's nothing." But his fingers tightened around the device. 1.8% didn't happen without reason. Not for a company his size. Not without a ripple somewhere bigger than this room.
Naomi stayed standing, bag over her shoulder, posture relaxed. She didn't look at the phone. She didn't need to. She had seen this moment before. It always looked the same.
Leonard handed the phone back too quickly, like distance might erase what he just read. "Probably automated trading," he said to no one in particular. "Happens all the time."
One of the executives cleared his throat. "Leonard, we usually don't see movement like that without—"
Leonard cut him off with a sharp glance. "I said it's nothing."
Silence followed. The kind that felt heavier than shouting. Naomi took a slow breath. This was the part most people never saw—the transition, the split second where confidence turned brittle. She spoke calmly. "Market confidence doesn't drop without uncertainty."
Leonard turned toward her, irritation flashing hot now. "And what would you know about that?"
Naomi didn't raise her voice. "Enough."
Leonard laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You've been sitting here all afternoon taking notes, asking loaded questions, acting like you're part of something you're not." The words landed exactly where he intended. A reminder, a warning.
Naomi nodded slowly. "You're right," she said. "I am part of something."
Leonard leaned forward. "Then say it."
Naomi paused. Not for drama. For timing. She glanced toward the glass wall. Outside, the jet still hadn't moved. Grounded, waiting. Then she looked back at Leonard. "Before I do, let me ask you one more thing."
Leonard rolled his eyes. "Of course."