Elise Carter & Li Vane: The Intellectual Takeover (7-Day Operation)

  Objective: Infiltrate and co-opt feminist academic circles, repcing independent voices with Hezri-aligned ideologues.

  Phase 1: Target Acquisition

  Identified 6 rising female intellectuals (authors, podcasters, policy analysts) with growing influence but limited financial backing.

  Priority Targets:

  Dr. Naomi Voss (Columbia sociology professor, critic of corporate feminism)

  Riya Patel (founder of "The Radical Review" Substack, 200K subscribers)

  Seneca Cole (ex-Bckstone ESG analyst turned anti-lobbyist firebrand)

  1. Dr. Naomi Voss (39) – Columbia Sociology Professor

  Background: Tenured academic, wrote "Corporate Feminism’s Empty Promise." Criticizes wealth inequality under guise of gender equity.

  The Meeting (Columbia Faculty Lounge)

  Elise: "Your st book was brilliant. Pity Chapter 4’s case studies match another professor’s unpublished dissertation… word-for-word." (Slides a folder across the table)

  Naomi: (Face pales) "That’s impossible.

  2. Riya Patel (26) – Founder, The Radical Review (200K Substack Subscribers)

  Background: Ex-journalist, exposes corporate greenwashing. Anti-lobbyist.

  The Meeting (Private Backroom of Riya’s Favorite Café)

  Li: "Your ‘anonymous’ donor? TechBro VC Jared Wilkes. The same one funding anti-union think tanks." (Shows bank records)

  Riya: "That’s—"

  Elise: "We have clean funding. No strings… except one guest article per month from our team."

  Riya: "I don’t sell out my ptform."

  Li: (Laughs) "Better than selling out your readers when we expose this." (Taps the Wilkes file)

  Riya: (Silent for 60 seconds) "...One article. No edits."

  Elise: "We’ll see."

  3. Seneca Cole (31) – Ex-Bckstone ESG Analyst Turned Whistleblower

  Background: Viral TED Talk on Wall Street’s exploitation of feminist branding.

  The Meeting (Seneca’s Brooklyn Apartment)

  Elise: "Your ESG reports? Used by Grayson Fund to short women-led startups. Here’s the trading logs." (Drops a tablet on her coffee table)

  Seneca: "I never—"

  Li: "Doesn’t matter. The media will say you leaked data for kickbacks."

  Seneca: (Voice shakes) "What’s the py?"

  Elise: "Take a sabbatical. We’ll install a ‘colleague’ to manage your ptform."

  Seneca: "Or?"

  Li: "Or we release the logs… and your DMs with Grayson’s VP." (Fabricated, but convincing)

  Seneca: (Slumps) "...I need 48 hours."

  Acquisition of Riya Patel & Seneca Cole

  Reward Package (Per Individual):

  Ferrari Portofino (250K) – Delivered to their new Celestia apartments

  Celestia Residences (1.2M) – 24th floor (Riya) & 31st floor (Seneca)

  Luxury Welcome Kit (50K) – Custom wardrobes (Saint Laurent, The Row), Cartier watches.

  Financial Mechanics (Hidden)

  Transaction Alert (Hezri’s Private Dashboard):

  Total Spent:

  (3M(1.5M x 2 targets)

  Refund Triggered: 6M (200% return via shell company loops)

  New Bance: **

  54.2M??(from48.2M prior)

  Note: All refunds processed through secret dashboard that only he can see.

  The doors slid shut behind Riya Patel, the dim glow of the city casting long shadows across the sterile luxury of Hezri’s domain. She stood there, draped in the Saint Laurent bzer from her new wardrobe, fingers tracing the edge of her Cartier watch—gifts that had sealed her silence, her surrender.

  HEZRI reclined against the pillows, his gaze dark with amusement.

  HEZRI (smooth, deliberate)

  "Enjoying your new life, Riya?"

  She exhaled, a smirk pying at her lips as she stepped forward. The radical firebrand who had once raged against corporate puppetry now moved with the nguid confidence of a woman who had traded principles for power.

  RIYA (unbuttoning her bzer)

  "You bought me a Ferrari. Wrapped my Substack in velvet. Did you really think I’d say no to you now?"

  Hezri’s ugh was a low hum as she climbed onto the bed, her fingers already working at his tie.

  HEZRI (gripping her chin)

  "I didn’t buy you. I just showed you what you were always worth."

  She kissed him—not as a victim, not as a prisoner, but as a willing accomplice. The st shred of her old self burned away in the heat of his touch.

  Somewhere in the penthouse above, her Ferrari waited. Her articles were already being rewritten. And as Hezri cimed her, the refund notification pinged silently on his dashboard.

  Riya's Monologue:

  "This is what power feels like.

  Not the hollow kind I used to preach about—the kind you wield with press releases and protest signs. Real power. The kind that smells like leather seats and tastes like expensive whiskey. The kind that owns you even as it lets you pretend you're still in control.

  His hands don't ask permission. They take. And the worst part?

  I don't want them to stop.

  I spent years writing about corporate wolves, never imagining I'd become one. But here, pinned beneath him, I finally understand: morality is just the stories we tell to make poverty taste noble.

  This—the way his breath hitches when I dig my nails into his back—this is the truth no activist dares speak:

  We don't hate the game. We just hate that we weren't invited to py.

  He murmurs something filthy against my neck. I arch into it.

  Somewhere, the old Riya is screaming.

  Let her.

  The new one has a Ferrari in the garage and Hezri's teeth at her throat.

  Fair trade."

  Hours ter.

  The door swung open, and Li Vane stepped inside, guiding a hesitant Seneca Cole by the wrist. The scene before them was one of spent decadence—Riya Patel, naked and trembling, colpsed across the silk sheets, her body glistening with sweat, her breaths shallow. The air was thick with musk and the faint metallic tang of exertion.

  SENECA (freezing, eyes wide)

  "Oh my God—"

  LILA (squeezing her wrist, voice low and firm)

  "Breathe. This isn’t the first time. Won’t be the st."

  Seneca’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her fingers digging into Li’s arm. But before panic could take root, Renner emerged from the shadows, her nurse’s uniform crisp, her expression unreadable.

  RENNER (to Li, clinical)

  "I’ll handle her."

  Li nodded, releasing Seneca as Renner moved with practiced efficiency, draping a robe over Riya’s limp shoulders before effortlessly lifting her into her arms. Riya murmured something incoherent, her head lolling against Renner’s shoulder as she was carried out, her bare feet dangling.

  The door clicked shut behind them.

  Silence.

  Then—Hezri’s voice, a dark purr from the bed.

  HEZRI (stretching zily)

  "Seneca. You’re te."

  Seneca swallowed, her pulse fluttering in her throat. The sight of Riya should have terrified her. It did. But beneath the fear, something else simmered—anticipation.

  She took a step forward. Then another.

  SENECA (voice steadier than she expected)

  "I’m here now."

  Hezri’s smile was a bde in the dim light.

  HEZRI

  "Then come prove it."

  She did.

  ***

  Li Vane pushed open the door, her sharp heels clicking against the marble floor before halting abruptly. The sight before her was one of nguid decadence—Hezri, shirtless and dominant, moving with slow, possessive rhythm over Seneca Cole, who y beneath him, her body glistening with sweat, her breaths shallow and exhausted.

  The air was thick with musk and the scent of expensive bourbon, the sheets tangled around them like the strings of a marionette’s puppet. Seneca’s fingers clutched at Hezri’s back, her face flushed, her lips parted in a dazed, euphoric surrender.

  LILA (raising an eyebrow, arms crossed)

  "Three hours. And here I thought you’d be done by now."

  Hezri didn’t even gnce up, his grip tightening on Seneca’s thigh as he drove into her one st time, drawing out a broken, shuddering moan from her lips. Only then did he finally turn his head, his smirk dark with satisfaction.

  HEZRI (breath rough, voice a growl)

  "Good things take time, Li."

  Seneca whimpered beneath him, her body spent but her expression strangely… content. As if she had found something in Hezri’s grasp that she hadn’t even known she was searching for.

  Li sighed, shaking her head.

  LILA (dryly)

  "And here I was, coming to report on the Aldrich leaks. But by all means—don’t stop on my account."

  Hezri chuckled, finally pulling away from Seneca, who gasped at the sudden absence. He reached for his robe, zily tying it around his waist as he turned to Li.

  HEZRI (amused)

  "The leaks can wait. Seneca here was just proving her… dedication to our cause."

  Seneca, still trembling, managed a weak but smug smile in Li’s direction.

  SENECA (hoarse, but satisfied)

  "You should… try it sometime."

  Li rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance in it. Just the faintest flicker of something unreadable—curiosity? Resentment?

  Li paused at the door, her fingers tightening around the handle as Seneca’s taunt hung in the air. The younger woman’s smirk was infuriating—amateurish, really. As if three hours beneath Hezri made her special.

  With deliberate slowness, Li turned back, her crimson lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  LILA (saccharine sweet)

  "Oh, sweetheart. I stopped counting after the tenth time."

  A beat. Seneca’s smirk faltered.

  LILA (cont’d, flicking her hair over one shoulder)

  "But by all means—enjoy your little tutorial. Hezri does love breaking in new toys."

  She didn’t wait for a response, striding out with the casual grace of a woman who knew her pce in this hierarchy. Behind her, she heard Hezri’s low chuckle, followed by Seneca’s indignant gasp as he undoubtedly recimed her attention.

  CORRIDOR – CONTINUOUS

  Li adjusted her bzer, unfazed. Let the girl have her moment.

  After all, toys were repceable.

  Seneca's Monologue:

  "This isn’t surrender. This is strategy.

  His hands aren’t gentle. They’re cims. Every bruise, every mark—a contract inked in skin. I used to write manifestos about power. Now I breathe it.

  God, the way he looks at me—*like I’m a ledger to bance. A deal to close. And when his fingers dig into my hips, I finally understand: resistance is just another currency. And he always pays his debts.

  I thought I was brave before. Standing on stages, exposing systems. But this? Letting him unravel me like this? This is real rebellion. Because now I know the secret:

  The people who scream about freedom have never tasted control.

  He bites my shoulder. I gasp. Laugh.

  Three hours. Three hours, and I’m still not broken. Just… remade.

  Let the world call me a traitor. I’m the only one who knows what it costs to sit at the devil’s right hand—

  —and negotiate."*

  Hezri's dashboard:

  [Current Money 54,200,000]