"You said the pie got smaller?"

"Yes…… Director."

"Why?"

Munich, Germany. Eisenberg Global Capital headquarters, the office of the global investment division head.

Johanna had come in to work today with her blond hair, faintly mixed with brown, falling loose past her shoulders.

Sitting in her chair, she took Stefan's report.

Johanna, in thin metal-framed glasses, is a German beauty of Nordic stock. Her looks and the intelligence in her eyes went well with her coldness.

The face that looked straight into a man's eyes gave almost nothing away.

She had the balance particular to a person who controls what she feels and holds it back.

The fingertip that touched the tablet and moved the file along was neither slow nor hurried.

She went through the screens, skipping exactly what was unnecessary and nothing else.

Young as she is, what stands out is not liveliness or any lightness but a controlled weight.

"A hunter like a fox. He tore one slice off the pie and ate it clean."

"Who are they?"

There was no mistaking the demand in Johanna's eyes as she looked at Stefan.

Stefan is her subordinate, but he is twice her age.

Even so, Johanna was known for showing no consideration to anyone while she was working.

Facing her, Stefan was thrown, but he kept his manner courteous.

In German culture a senior and a junior are not often seen standing this way.

But in this room there is no help for it.

The woman in front of him with the cold eyes is Johanna von Eisenberg. Eldest daughter of the man who actually owns the investment company.

The unofficial money of Europe's royal houses and nobility, of its foundations and its family offices, comes to a trillion dollars.

Eisenberg Global Capital has the handling of that money, and the senior officer in the Director's post over the work was Johanna.

The one she is taking to task right now is not Stefan but Robert, who works on Wall Street.

Robert d'Artois, the French noble in charge of oil. This time he turned in a lower result…