Skyscrapers and Starlight – The Dragon’s Daughter

By Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 12: Echoes and Earthquakes
Part 1: The Dragon’s Whisper
The Drake Tower’s press room hummed with anticipation as Marcus took the podium, jade cufflinks catching the camera flashes. Alexandra watched from a private viewing room above, a small smile playing on her lips as her husband began to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” his voice carried clear and confident, “today marks not just a new chapter for Drake Industries, but a revolution in how we think about construction itself.”
The room leaned forward as he outlined the quantum-based technology, the self-healing structures, the environmental adaptations. Share prices began ticking up on the screens behind him.
“With our new partnership,” Marcus continued, “we’re not just building buildings. We’re creating living, breathing structures that evolve with their environment.”
Alexandra’s phone buzzed. A message from Wei:
“Young mistress. Urgent. Your father’s private jet just landed at JFK. He’s demanding a meeting. Now.”
Her blood froze. Chen Wei-Ming never left Hong Kong. Never.
A second message flashed:
“He knows about the marriage. And he’s not alone. The Rothschilds are with him.”
Alexandra’s fingers tightened on her phone as she watched Marcus field questions below, unaware that their carefully orchestrated plans had just collided with a typhoon.
Her father and the Rothschilds. Together. In New York.
The last time that combination had occurred, three major corporations had vanished overnight.
Part 2: The Storm Gathers
The private viewing room’s atmosphere thickened with tension as Alexandra watched Marcus masterfully handle the press conference below. Her mind raced through possibilities, each more concerning than the last.
Her phone buzzed again. Wei’s message made her breath catch:
“They’re heading to Drake Tower. ETA 10 minutes. Your father mentioned something about ‘correcting a miscalculation.'”
Alexandra’s laugh was soft and dangerous. “Oh, Father,” she whispered, “you have no idea who’s miscalculating.”
She pressed a button on her intercom. “Claire? Protocol Diamond. Now.”
Below, Marcus was unveiling preliminary renderings of his quantum architecture. The press corps gasped appropriately at holographic displays of buildings that seemed to breathe.
Another message from Wei:
“Young mistress… Lord Rothschild is carrying THE briefcase.”
Alexandra’s smile turned predatory. The briefcase meant negotiations. Negotiations meant leverage. And leverage…
She opened her private safe, removing a single red USB drive that bore the Imperial seal.
“Claire?” She spoke into her phone. “Have the Jade Conference Room prepared. And call Marcus’s grandmother. Tell her to bring the Rothko.”
“The Rothko?” Claire’s voice wavered. “But that’s—”
“Exactly what we need.” Alexandra watched her husband shine below, even as her father’s town car entered the Tower’s underground garage. “Oh, and Claire? Tell Eleanor to wear the dragon brooch I sent this morning. She’ll understand.”
The pieces were aligning, but not for the game her father thought he was playing.
Part 3: The Queen’s Gambit
Alexandra’s fingers flew across her phone, orchestrating a delicate ballet of power and timing. The viewing room’s screens displayed multiple camera feeds: the press conference, the Tower’s entrance, and traffic cameras across Manhattan.
“Claire, status?”
“Elizabeth Drake is three minutes out. Town car with police escort.”
“Perfect.” Alexandra switched channels. “Miguel? Our guests from the airport?”
“Traffic on FDR Drive, Ms. Chen. Construction issues.” The security chief’s voice held a hint of amusement. “Very unfortunate. GPS estimates twenty minutes minimum.”
She smiled. The ‘construction issues’ – perfectly timed road works by a Global Titan subsidiary – would keep her father’s party occupied just long enough.
“Eleanor Drake has arrived,” Claire announced. “With the Rothko. And she’s wearing the dragon brooch.”
“Send her up. And Claire? Initiate Protocol Jade.”
Below, Marcus was handling the Q&A session brilliantly. But time was running out.
Elizabeth Drake swept into the viewing room, looking surprisingly composed for someone summoned by emergency protocol. “I assume this is about our… unexpected visitors?”
“Indeed.” Alexandra’s smile was sharp. “How would you like to help me teach your ex-future-in-laws a lesson about family loyalty?”
Elizabeth’s answering smile was pure ice. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Alexandra’s phone buzzed – her father’s convoy had cleared the construction. Time to move.
She pressed a button on her desk, sending a pre-arranged signal to Marcus’s podium. A small jade dragon, identical to Eleanor’s brooch, began to pulse with subtle green light.
Below, Marcus’s eyes flickered to the dragon, then up to the viewing room window. Twenty years of business training couldn’t quite hide his momentary surprise.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said smoothly, “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short. But I assure you, what comes next will be even more interesting.”
The Drake Tower’s press room erupted into controlled chaos as Marcus stepped away from the podium. Reporters’ phones buzzed simultaneously as if orchestrated, and the whispers began.
“Did you see? Chen Wei-Ming’s private jet at JFK—”
“The Rothschilds too, I heard—”
“Wait, isn’t that Eleanor Drake’s Rolls pulling up?”
Bloomberg’s senior correspondent suddenly stood, face pale as she read from her phone. “Sources confirm Global Titan’s entire board is in emergency session in Hong Kong—”
“CNBC is reporting unusual trading patterns in Asian markets—”
“The Chen family hasn’t left Hong Kong in fifteen years, why now—”
Marcus navigated through the buzzing crowd with practiced ease, even as Reuters broke another update:
“BREAKING: Major movement in Dubai construction shares. Multiple sources report unprecedented institutional buying—”
A Wall Street Journal reporter called out: “Mr. Drake! Any comment on rumours that Alexandra Chen is in New York?”
Marcus merely smiled, jade cufflinks catching the light as he straightened his tie. “No comment. Though I suggest you stay close to your phones. The real story is just beginning.”
The Financial Times correspondent’s phone pinged loudly: “Global Titan just announced an emergency press conference. In New York. One hour.”
The room exploded.