---- Chapter 10 Anya Warner POV: The Apex Club wasn't a club so much as a sanctuary. The air hummed with the quiet confidence of people who were the best in the world at what they did and had no need to shout about it. Faces | recognized from anonymous coding forums and encrypted chat rooms looked up as | entered. "l'm Anya Warner," | said, my voice clear and steady. A murmur went through the room. Then, a tall woman with a cascade of fiery red hair broke into a wide grin. "No way," she said, striding toward me. "You're Ghost. Holy crap. It's an honor. I'm Sierra." She shook my hand enthusiastically. "Your architecture on the Prometheus project? Legendary. You practically reinvented quantum encryption." Others gathered around, their initial reserve melting away into genuine, unadulterated respect. It wasn't about my new last name or my father's fortune. It was about my work. My code. My mind. For the first time in years, | was being seen for who | truly was. A huge, bear-like man with a thick beard and tattoos covering his arms stared at me, his eyes wide. "Wait, you're the Ghost? ---- The one who designed the core logic for the Glass Innovations racing simulators?" | nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. "| knew it!" he boomed. "No off-the-shelf programmer could write code that elegant. My team and | have spent months trying to reverse-engineer your predictive physics engine. It's a work of art." He then glanced down at my visible baby bump, his gruff expression softening. "And... uh... congratulations." | laughed, a real, genuine laugh that came from deep inside. | instinctively placed a hand over my stomach. "Thank you." The warmth in the room was palpable. It was a pure, uncomplicated acceptance | hadn't realized | was starving for. "Please," | said to the assembled group of geniuses. "Call me Anya. | look forward to working with all of you." The big man, whose name was Jax, clapped his hands together. "Working with us? Lady, we should be working for you. Any chance you could show us that 'Death's Kiss' maneuver you coded into the sim? The one where the vehicle model uses the guardrail as a pivot point? It defies every law of physics we know." Just then, a sneering voice cut through the friendly atmosphere. "Don't waste your breath, Jax. She's not a real coder. She's just another rich girl playing dress-up." Everyone turned. Leaning against a doorway was Dante ---- Mullen, the notoriously arrogant heir to Mullen Industries, a rival tech dynasty. He was brilliant, no one denied that, but he was also an insufferable playboy who saw the world as his personal chessboard. Sierra stepped forward. "Back off, Dante. You don't know what you're talking about." Dante pushed himself off the doorframe, his eyes raking over me with dismissive contempt. "Oh, | think | do. Little Miss Warner, heiress to a fallen kingdom. Did Daddy buy your way in here? What's next, are you going to buy the racing championship, too?" The air went cold. The other members looked ready to defend me, but | held up a hand, stopping them. | met Dante's gaze, my own calm and unwavering. "It's funny you should mention racing championships, Mr. Mullen," | said, my voice quiet but carrying across the silent room. "I seem to recall a certain 'Prometheus' project in the under-25 league about five years ago. An anonymous coder named 'Ghost' managed to exploit a flaw in your team's energy management system, causing your vehicle to run out of power on the final lap. You lost the championship by less than a second." Dante's smug expression froze. The color drained from his face. "How... how did you know about that?" | gave him a slow, deliberate smile. "Because | was Ghost." ---- A collective gasp went through the room. Dante stared at me, his mouth slightly agape, looking as if | had just slapped him. The legendary coder who had publicly and humiliatingly outsmarted him was not some grizzled old hacker, but the woman he had just dismissed as a "rich girl." "So, yes," | continued, my voice silky smooth. "| would be happy to demonstrate the 'Death's Kiss.' In fact, why don't we make it interesting? After my maternity leave, you and |, on the track. If | win, you will personally fund a scholarship program for underprivileged female coders." | paused, letting the challenge hang in the air. "Is that a bet you're willing to take, Mr. Mullen? Or did losing to a 'girl' once already wound your precious ego too much?" The room exploded in laughter. Dante Mullen, for the first time in his life, was utterly speechless.