Chapter 3

The Vance Consortium internship selection was the business school's most brutal annual meat grinder.

Out of a thousand top-tier resumes, only ten candidates were ruthlessly filtered through to the final live case-study defense.

And from those ten, only one would walk away with the offer.

This wasn't just an internship. It was a golden ticket straight onto Wall Street.

The defense was held in the university's grandest amphitheater.

Below the stage sat a panel of senior partners from the Vance Consortium, flanked by the school's most veteran professors.

Up in the wings, I was quietly organizing my slide deck.

I wore an impeccably tailored business suit, my hair pulled back into a severe, no-nonsense bun.

"You actually dared to show up."

Blair's voice floated up from behind me. She was dressed like she was headed to a Met Gala after-party rather than a corporate defense, with Kaelen trailing her like a well-trained shadow.

When Kaelen saw me, a flicker of conflicted guilt crossed his eyes, but he quickly swallowed it, straightening his spine and stepping firmly to Blair's side.

"If I were you, I'd bow out right now." Blair stepped into my personal space, dropping her voice to a harsh whisper. "You really think your little textbook theories are going to win this? Let me read you into reality: today's head judge is my father, Julian Vance. This spot has already been secured for Kaelen. Walking out on that stage is just going to be a public humiliation."

I stopped shuffling my notes. Turning to her, I kept my expression entirely unreadable. "Are you absolutely certain Julian Vance is your father?"

Blair's face completely froze. A crack of panic showed in her eyes, but she immediately hiked up her volume to mask the hollow ground she stood on.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Everyone knows my last name is Vance! You're a bottom-feeder, Sierra. You know nothing about how real capital moves. Take a hint and save yourself the embarrassment."

I shifted my gaze to Kaelen, letting a heavy wave of disappointment wash over him before offering a mocking smile. "Is this the shortcut you chose, Kaelen? Relying on a woman who can't even say her own name without flinching to toss you a bone?"

"Shut your mouth, Sierra!" Kaelen snapped, his face flushing dark red as if I'd stepped on an exposed nerve. "You don't get to question Blair's status. You're just jealous she was born with resources you couldn't grind your way toward in ten lifetimes."

"Jealous?" A low laugh escaped my throat. "Fine. Let's see how that plays out on stage."

When it was my turn to present, a heavy silence settled over the amphitheater.

My case study focused on a highly controversial, cross-border acquisition the Vance Consortium had closed just last quarter.

While the other candidates had spent their time regurgitating shallow, textbook macro-theories, I drove a scalpel straight into the complex offshore tax structures and the deeply hidden debt divestment logic behind the deal.

"In conclusion," I stated, my voice echoing evenly off the mahogany walls, "while this acquisition artificially inflated the Consortium's stock price in the short term, the underlying environmental compliance risks are a ticking time bomb. If I were the Chief Risk Officer, I would immediately halt the Phase Three capital injection."

I clicked my presenter. A brutally detailed, ruthlessly logical data model illuminated the massive screen behind me.

In the front row, the color drained from the faces of the senior partners.

They exchanged sharp, urgent glances, their eyes wide with poorly concealed shock.

The risks I had just laid bare on a 4K screen were the exact points of fierce debate happening behind locked boardroom doors among Vance's highest executives over the past forty-eight hours.

A student who hadn't even graduated yet had just effortlessly sliced through to the Consortium's most vulnerable jugular using nothing but open-source data.

"An absolutely brilliant analysis," one of the partners leaned into his microphone, unable to stop himself from clapping. "Your market acuity far surpasses many of the professionals sitting in this room."

I offered a shallow, professional bow.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Blair. She looked physically ill. Sweating beside her, Kaelen looked like a man watching his life's work catch fire; his prepared presentation of hollow market buzzwords was going to look like a middle-school diorama compared to my data models.

"It's nothing but sensationalist garbage!" Blair suddenly shrieked, bolting up from her seat and pointing an accusing finger at me. "These numbers haven't been officially verified! You're just fear-mongering! An outsider has absolutely no right to dictate the decisions of the Vance Consortium!"

Before the judges could reprimand her, the heavy acoustic doors at the back of the amphitheater were pushed open.

A man walked in.

Julian Vance.

The entire 500-seat lecture hall went dead silent in a fraction of a second. Every official, professor, and candidate shot to their feet.

Blair puffed up like a proud peacock. Lifting the hem of her ridiculous dress, she practically sprinted down the aisle to intercept him, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Daddy! You're finally here. This whole selection has devolved into a circus. That girl up there actually dared to publicly question the Consortium's..."

Behind her, Kaelen nervously tugged at his silk tie, his breathing shallow with excitement, preparing to be introduced to the man who would validate his shortcut to the top.

But Julian Vance didn't look at Blair. He didn't spare her a single fraction of a second.

He walked right past her outstretched arms as if she were made of vacant air, taking long, deliberate strides down the center aisle and straight up the stairs onto the main stage.

He stopped directly in front of me.

Before the shocked eyes of hundreds of the brightest minds in finance, the infamously cold, ruthless titan of Wall Street let the hard lines of his face melt into something incredibly soft.

He opened his arms and pulled me into a deep, grounding embrace.

"Your risk assessment was flawless," Julian said softly to me.

Then, he turned to face the deafening silence of the crowd, his voice projecting with an unmistakable, regal authority. "I came to the academy personally today for one reason alone."

He reached out, placing a firm, proud hand on my shoulder.

"Allow me to formally introduce you all to Sierra Vance. My biological daughter, and the sole legitimate heir to the Vance Consortium."