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Hannah left her hotel and made her way to the convention center. Rossi had told her he would contact her again before she left Toronto, so that meant either today or tomorrow. While she waited, she would make the most of the trade fair and business summit she was attending.

She found the trade fair in full swing, just as it had been the day before. But it felt different today, since she was now attending not as a general visitor, but as an independent investment consultant. It was a thought that put a spring into her step and sharpened her focus.

She wandered between displays - banks showcasing their digital platforms, fintech startups demoing predictive-risk tools, a few bold ventures blending sustainability with finance. Every conversation, every overheard phrase about "strategic liquidity" or "data driven portfolios," fed her curiosity. This was the world she belonged in - analytical, restless, alive with quiet ambition.

At one booth, a young analyst spoke passionately about algorithmic models for supply chain resilience. She listened, asked a few questions, and found herself sketching notes in the margins of her conference guide - ideas, gaps, opportunities. She could almost see how her future consultancy might fit into this landscape - a nimble outsider bridging strategy and intuition.

Toward the end of the day she attended an investment talk, where a speaker from Luxembourg outlined a new framework for cross-border fund transparency. Again she took notes, all information now more valuable than ever. Every insight she gained was potential leverage.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Alessandro Rossi. "Tonight at 8. Same restaurant."

Hannah slipped the phone back into her purse. The summit's closing keynote faded into background noise. She felt the weight of Rossi's summons settle - not fear, but anticipation. This was the pivot point. Tonight, she'd cement her independence or expose its fragility.

She lingered near the Luxembourg speaker's booth, absorbing the chatter about regulatory arbitrage opportunities. A man in a sharply tailored suit caught her eye, his gaze lingering a beat too long. Hannah offered a professional smile, nothing more. Her mind cataloged him - mid-forties with the restless energy of someone hunting leverage. Potential client, she noted silently. In fact every contact was a potential client now. The thought was exhilarating.

She resumed listening to the Luxembourg speaker's words about "risk corridors" and "AI driven compliance tools," every nugget of information she gained being filed away in her mind. It had been an interesting day, but now her thoughts turned to what the evening had in store.

At precisely seven forty-five that evening, Hannah stepped into the restaurant. The maître d' recognized her immediately, guiding her past murmuring tables to the secluded booth where Rossi waited. He wasn't alone. Beside him sat a woman with silver-streaked hair swept into a severe chignon, her eyes assessing Hannah like an undervalued asset. Rossi's introduction was curt. "Julia Anderson. Former SEC enforcement, now heads due diligence for sovereign wealth funds."

Julia didn't offer her hand. "Rossi speaks highly of your... unconventional methods." Her tone implied a distaste for euphemisms. "He believes you can navigate transactions others deem radioactive."

Hannah slid into the booth, her pulse steady. This wasn't Rossi's domain anymore, it was hers. "I specialize in assessing viability where traditional metrics fail," she countered, matching Julia's clinical detachment. "Risk is contextual. My job is to redefine the context."

Julia's gaze sharpened. "Define context."

Hannah leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on the crisp linen. "Take Keller Biotech. Generally seen as a failing gene therapy pipeline. I saw a board frozen by previous poor manoeuvres and undervalued IP in biomarker validation. Context shifted the risk from salvage to strategic spin-off." She kept her tone cool, factual. No bravado.

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