"Starting trouble at Aroma Exchange? Do you have a death wish?"

A sharp, commanding voice sliced through the room. Striding in at the center of a group of men in fitted black suits was a tall woman in a crimson designer dress, a lit cigarette delicately balanced between her fingers. Her wavy hair and cold expression made her presence impossible to ignore.

Behind her, the men stood like trained operatives—buzz cuts, sharp eyes, and temple veins slightly bulging—the kind of guys you just knew