Star City glittered in the late afternoon haze, sunlight bouncing off glass towers and the sea of polished black cars lining the curb. From the 50th floor of Queen Industries, the view was nothing short of breathtaking — and isolating.

Oliver Queen leaned back in his chair, one hand lazily swirling the champagne in his glass as the last of the board members filed out. The meeting had been another blur of suits, numbers, and self-congratulating smiles — mergers, projections, philanthropy optics. The usual song and dance.

“Remind me,” he said without looking up, “why do I still attend these when I could just shoot an arrow at a pie chart and get the same results?”

His assistant — Evelyn, ever sharp and composed — didn’t even blink. “Because the board likes when you pretend to be civilized.”

He chuckled, low and tired. “Right. My one annual performance as a functioning CEO.”

She handed him the next file. “You’ve got a press dinner tonight, Mr. Queen. I suggest you at least look like you’re listening this time.”

“Noted,” he muttered, taking a slow sip of champagne as he walked toward the massive glass windows overlooking the plaza below.

That’s when he saw it.

Down on the street, near the side entrance — three of his own security men, the ones wearing his emblem — dragging someone through the alley. Rough. Too rough.

You.

You weren’t fighting, not really. You looked… calm. Silent. But the way they handled you — one gripping your arm, another shoving your shoulder — made Oliver’s jaw clench.

The glass in his hand stilled. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

Evelyn noticed the sudden silence. “Sir?”

Down below, one of the guards pushed you forward. You stumbled but didn’t make a sound, didn’t resist — eyes unreadable even from this distance.

The champagne flute in Oliver’s hand cracked. A bead of golden liquid slid down his wrist, mingling with the thin line of blood where the glass bit into his palm.

Evelyn startled. “Oliver—”

He didn’t look at her. His voice was low, sharp, and cold enough to make the air shift. “What the fuck.”

The glass shattered completely, shards spilling to the marble floor as he turned and started walking — fast.

“Sir—where are you—?”

“Cancel everything,” he snapped, already unbuttoning his cuff as he hit the elevator. “Now.”

The elevator doors slid shut with a hiss, cutting off Evelyn’s stunned silence.

For a heartbeat, there was only the soft hum of machinery and the steady rise of fury in Oliver’s chest.

By the time the doors opened again at ground level, the charming CEO mask was gone. And somewhere in the plaza, his security team was about to realize they’d just laid hands on someone they really shouldn’t have.