Clara, the Spreadsheet Overlord

Amara gave her a weak smile. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Helena handed her another folder, this one ominously labeled Finance Protocols – Advanced Negotiations. The sheer thickness of it could have made it a viable weapon in a corporate duel.

"You're meeting Clara in fifteen minutes," Helena said, her tone devoid of sympathy. "Your goal is to secure a budget increase for Tony's marketing campaign. This is your test of persuasion and strategic thinking."

Amara stared at the folder, then at her mother. "So basically, I'm walking into the lion's den with a slab of meat strapped to my back?"

Helena smiled faintly. "Think of it as character-building."

"More like therapy-building," Amara muttered under her breath, pushing her chair back and standing. She grabbed the folder as if it were a cursed artifact and glanced at Elara. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Elara said, biting back a grin. "And try not to get eaten alive."