The main ballroom was a breathtaking spectacle. Chandeliers dripped with crystals, casting a warm glow over tables adorned with elaborate floral arrangements of white roses and lilies. Hundreds of guests, dressed in their finest, mingled, their laughter and chatter filling the vast space. It was a symphony of opulence and power, a clear statement of Max Lucky's standing in the city. Every detail, from the engraved silverware to the live string quartet, screamed wealth and influence.Among the crowd, Tommy Becker, impeccably dressed in a custom-tailored suit but with an air of barely contained aggression, surveyed the scene. His eyes, sharp and calculating, missed nothing. His brother, Bobby, a hulking figure with a less subtle demeanor, stood beside him, occasionally grunting in response to Tommy's observations, looking slightly overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur."Look at this, Bobby," Tommy murmured, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every face, every detail. "Max Lucky certainly

As the evening progressed, the energy in the ballroom remained high. Max, despite his earlier anxieties, was genuinely enjoying himself, caught up in the celebration. He even managed to relax a little, sharing jokes with old friends and dancing with Trisha.Suddenly, the lights in a section of the ballroom, near the far wall where some of the less prominent guests were seated, flickered violently. They dimmed, then brightened, then went completely dark for a heart-stopping second before snapping back on. A few gasps rippled through the crowd, quickly followed by nervous laughter.Max's head snapped up, his eyes immediately scanning the room. His smile vanished, replaced by a look of intense focus. He spotted Ronald making his way quickly through the crowd, his earpiece already pressed to his ear.Ronald reached Max, his voice low and urgent. "Max, we had a localized power surge on circuit three. It tripped the breakers in that section. Marco's team rerouted power immediately. It was b

"A weapon I'm not allowed to use!" Magnus retorted, turning to face him, his eyes blazing. "He took everything from me! My home, my position, my reputation! He made me a laughingstock, a ghost! And you tell me to be patient? While he celebrates his wedding, no less!""And what would you have us do, Magnus?" Vincenzo asked, his voice even, unruffled. "Charge in blindly? Send in a legion of men to attack a fortified wedding, surrounded by his most loyal enforcers and likely federal agents? That would be suicide. And it would achieve nothing but confirming his power and our desperation.""It would send a message!" Magnus insisted, slamming his fist lightly on the window frame. "It would show him that I am not broken! That I am still a force to be reckoned with!""A message of impulsiveness, perhaps," Vincenzo countered, his gaze unwavering. "A message that you are predictable. Max Lucky is not a fool. He anticipates direct attacks. He prepares for them. What he does not anticipate is the

Mayor Bryan Benson sat in his opulent, wood-paneled office, staring at the panoramic view of the city he governed. The city he had built his career on, the city he had, in his own mind, served faithfully. The knock on his door startled him, pulling him from his troubled thoughts."Come in," he called out, trying to sound composed, though his heart hammered against his ribs.The door opened, and a man walked in, followed by two silent, imposing figures. The man was impeccably dressed, with sharp, intelligent eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Special Agent Gonzalez."Mayor Benson," Gonzalez said, his voice smooth, almost polite, but with an underlying steel that sent a shiver down Benson's spine. "Thank you for agreeing to this... informal meeting. I appreciate you making time for me on such short notice."Benson gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. "Agent Gonzalez. I'm a busy man. What can I do for the federal government that couldn't be handled through official channels? I have a

The city skyline, usually a source of pride for Mayor Bryan Benson, now felt like a cage. He sat at his desk, a half-eaten Danish growing cold beside a stack of urgent reports he couldn't focus on. The memory of Agent Gonzalez's icy stare, his calm, cutting words, still echoed in his mind. *“The choice, Mayor Benson, is yours. Though, I think we both know there's only one choice you can make.”*He had made the choice. He had agreed. Now, the bitter taste of betrayal was already in his mouth.His secure phone, a special line only for top-level communications, buzzed. He picked it up, his hand shaking slightly."Benson," he said, trying to sound firm."Mayor," Gonzalez's voice, as smooth and unfeeling as polished stone, came through the receiver. "I trust you've had a moment to reflect on our conversation. I'm calling to provide your first set of instructions."Benson swallowed hard. "I'm listening, Agent.""Good. For now, we're focusing on the Beckers. Specifically, their legitimate fr