Later that day, the mood in Max’s private office was far more somber. Tommy sat opposite Max, a map of the city spread between them, dotted with various markers. Papers, reports, and intelligence briefings were scattered across the desk.“Gonzalez is a problem, Max,” Tommy stated, tapping a finger on a section of the map. “He’s not like the local cops. He’s got federal resources, federal reach. And he’s mad. Really mad.”Max nodded, his expression grim. “He’s a dog with a bone. He came here looking for a win, and we made him look like a fool. He won’t forget that.”“He’s already started,” Tommy continued. “Our people are reporting increased federal presence in certain areas. Not direct raids, not yet. But more patrols, more surveillance. They’re poking around. Asking questions. Trying to find a loose thread.”“And what are they finding?” Max asked, his eyes scanning the map.“Nothing concrete, yet,” Tommy replied. “We cleaned up well. But they’re not looking for a smoking gun anymore.

Agent Gonzalez leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the city lights outside his high-rise office. The view was a sweeping panorama, but he saw only targets. Across from him sat Mr. Davies, a man whose tailored suit cost more than most people's cars, a political lobbyist with fingers in every pie."So, Davies," Gonzalez said, his voice a low rumble. "How's the pressure building?"Davies adjusted his silk tie, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Agent, you're a master. The 'soft' approach is working wonders. Mayor Benson's office is already feeling the heat. Suddenly, permits for certain... establishments are taking longer. Building inspections are becoming more frequent, more thorough.""Good," Gonzalez grunted. "Max's legitimate fronts. They're his lifeline. Cut that, and he bleeds.""Indeed. And the tax audits? We've managed to flag a few of his holding companies. Nothing concrete yet, but enough to tie up resources, cause a little panic." Davies steepled his fingers. "It's all about ma

Max was back in his office, the early morning light filtering through the blinds. He felt a renewed sense of purpose, a quiet resolve that had settled in after his conversation with Trisha. Ronald entered, carrying his usual tablet and a fresh cup of coffee for Max."Morning, Max," Ronald said, placing the coffee on the desk. "Updates on Gonzalez. He's pushing harder. More targeted audits on our smaller, less visible shell companies. And his lobbyists are now directly contacting some of our suppliers, asking questions about our payment structures."Max took a sip of his coffee. "He's trying to find a weak link. A chink in the armor.""Exactly. And he's still using the media, subtly. There was another local news segment this morning, talking about 'unscrupulous business practices' in the city, hinting at federal intervention. No names, but the message is clear.""He's playing a long game," Max observed. "Trying to isolate us, make us look like the bad guys before he even makes a move."

The city skyline glittered, a familiar backdrop to Max’s penthouse, but tonight, its glow felt different, softer, reflecting the new light in Trisha’s eyes. She was a whirlwind of excitement, surrounded by open magazines, fabric swatches, and a laptop displaying endless wedding ideas. Max watched her from the kitchen, a quiet smile on his face, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Her joy was a welcome shield against the growing anxieties of his world."Max, look at this lace!" Trisha exclaimed, holding up a delicate, intricate piece of fabric. "It's so beautiful. Do you think it would work for the table settings? Or maybe as an accent on the invitations?"Max walked over, leaning against the back of the sofa, letting the warmth of her enthusiasm wash over him. "Whatever you think, love. It's perfect if you like it.""But it's *our* wedding," she corrected playfully, looking up at him with eyes that sparkled like the city lights. "Your thoughts matter too. What kind of

"Don't play innocent with me, Uncle," Magnus snarled, taking a threatening step closer, his eyes blazing. "You told me Max was vulnerable. You told me you had information that would cripple him. You even gave me the initial intel on his movements, on his weak points, on his routines.""I provided you with opportunities, Magnus," Vincenzo corrected, calmly blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air, his composure unnerving. "Opportunities you squandered. I never promised you success. Only a chance. And you, my boy, failed spectacularly.""I lost everything because of you!" Magnus spat, his voice trembling with rage. "My men, my resources, my reputation! I barely escaped with my life! I was hunted like an animal! And you just sat here, playing chess, sipping brandy, while I was fighting for survival!""And what exactly do you expect me to do about it now?" Vincenzo asked, his tone bored, as if discussing a minor inconvenience. "You're a liability, Magnus. A loose end. You should have sta