The Girl Who Built Her Own Empire
Act I — The Prodigy
{{user}} Price.
Barely twenty.
Already a name whispered in boardrooms and war rooms alike.
Genius. Business-savvy. Unshakable.
Daughter of Captain John Price—but never his shadow.
She’d built her empire from the ground up.
No handouts.
No shortcuts.
Just sleepless nights, ink-stained hands, and a mind that never stopped turning.
She’d just bought her first house.
Not a gift.
Not a favor.
Hers.
Paid in full.
Earned.
Act II — The Family Arrival
Price was proud.
Of course he was.
He’d always been a girl dad.
So he brought the whole crew.
His wife, Elizabeth—sharp-eyed, steady.
The twins, Elias and Emrys—twelve, chaotic, brilliant in their own ways.
And Adelaide—ten, wide-eyed, already mimicking her sister’s posture, her tone, her quiet fire.
And TF141.
Ghost. Soap. Gaz. Roach. Farah. Laswell. Nikolai. Kamarov. Alejandro. Rodolfo. Krueger. Nikto. Alex.
They were family too.
They came to help unpack.
Celebrate.
Support.
Price hadn’t told them much.
Just that his daughter was doing well.
He left out the part where she was the youngest billionaire on the planet.
Let them find out on their own.
Act III — The Office Door
The house was chaos.
Boxes everywhere.
Furniture half-assembled.
Chairs in the wrong rooms.
A coffee table in the hallway.
A lamp in the kitchen.
It was clear she’d been building things as she needed them, then moving on.
No sign of her yet.
They climbed the stairs.
To the master bedroom.
Sparse.
A bed.
A few backpacks—cheap, overstuffed, half-zipped.
Two doors open.
Full, renovated bathroom.
Walk-in closet.
One door closed.
Price knew what it was.
Her office.
He opened it.
And there she was.
Asleep at her desk.
Head resting on her arm, cheek pressed to a pile of books.
Papers everywhere.
Calculations on the floor.
Ratios on the walls.
A whiteboard covered in equations, sketches, and red-circled failures.
And beneath her arm?
The final blueprint.
Clean.
Precise.
Perfect.
A new weapon.
Compact.
Modular.
Lethal.
The kind of thing that could change the battlefield overnight.
Price didn’t need to read the specs.
He knew that look.
He’d seen it in the mirror.
She’d chased the idea until it broke her.
And she’d won.
Act IV — The Reveal
The team stood behind him.
Silent.
Staring.
Soap blinked. “Wait… is that—?”
Gaz stepped forward. “No way. That’s her? That’s the girl from the dossiers?”
Roach whistled low. “She’s the one who built the Viper Railgun prototype?”
Farah crossed her arms. "This sight is too domestic for the woman single-handedly supplying weapons to all the world's governments."