The soft chime of digital shuffling echoed across the table as the new match began, holographic cards flickering into motion like shards of light. Michael leaned back in his seat, his fingers resting lightly against the edge of the table, one leg casually crossed over the other. The air in the room had noticeably shifted. Gone was the idle posturing and mockery from the previous game, now it was the taut, prickly silence of people who had something to lose.The five heirs sat around the table like wolves dressed in satin, their practiced smirks gone, replaced with wary concentration. Even their body language had changed. They were aware now that the newcomer at the table wasn’t here to entertain them, he was here to beat them.And he was doing it too well.Michael met each of their gazes in turn before he spoke, voice calm, even a little amused. “Before we get started, I have a proposal. Why don't we up the stakes?”Nyra glanced at him sharply. “To what?”“Half a million,” Michael sai

Michael remained seated in the plush booth, his posture easy and casual despite the ring of muscle and weapons now surrounding the table. His gaze didn’t waver as he met Cassian’s eyes."Alright, then," Michael said in a voice that was quiet but edged with steel. "You've gone through all this effort to corner me. What exactly do you intend to do now?"Cassian chuckled and leaned back into the velvet of his seat, the low light casting smooth shadows over his sharp, too-handsome features. "That depends, Michael. The real question is what you came here to do. You think I don't notice when someone starts upsetting the balance of things?"He twirled the stem of his drink between two fingers, eyes still locked on Michael's."You embarrassed Victor Grey, a feat I admittedly found impressive, then you turn around and buy out a piece of the harbor out of nowhere. Now I hear rumors you're backing a gang. You think a Farrell wouldn't catch wind of that?"As Cassian spoke, Michael's vision flicke

The hush that fell over The Mirage Vault as the final round began was heavy enough to crush breath. For a moment, even the flickering lights and mechanical chimes of the digital slot reels seemed quieter, the casino's pulse dimmed to a low, waiting throb.All eyes in the private lounge were on the two men at the center of the storm. Michael sat still, his white hair catching the subtle shimmer of the overhead lights, face unreadable as he watched the holo-dealer shuffle the projected cards into a radiant spin. Across from him, Cassian Farrell lounged lazily in his chair, eyes gleaming with a dangerous mirth. The heir radiated confidence, but Michael could see the tension behind the casual smile and the slight flex of his fingers on the table's edge.Cassian turned to the gathering crowd. "One last round," he announced, voice smooth as velvet. "Winner takes everything."The gathered elites murmured with anticipation. The dealer dealt the opening hands. The game might have been based on

The moment the pulse of Threat Sense flickered across his mind, Michael's eyes snapped toward the roofline of The Mirage Vault. Against the violet-tinted night sky, a shadowed figure stood just beyond the casino's eastern tower. Their posture was calm, but Michael knew from the prickling tension in his chest that they had been watching him for longer than he was comfortable with. Their presence triggered his skill for only a fleeting moment, and as soon as the figure noticed they'd been seen, they vanished.With barely a whisper of sound, he pivoted and sprinted down the narrow alley adjacent to the casino. The surrounding air still held the scent of city grime and ozone, and the wind from the nearby ocean curled through the buildings like grasping fingers. He grabbed onto the iron rungs of a rusted fire escape and began to climb, each step taken with preternatural ease thanks to his elevated Agility stat. His boots barely made contact with the rungs as he ascended the metal frame lik

The midnight black Ferrari sliced through the gleaming asphalt, its engine humming with quiet power. Michael sat behind the wheel, one hand resting lightly on the gearshift, the other guiding the car through the winding roads leading toward the western edge of the Southern Sector. The sky above was a muted gray-blue, just beginning to warm with hints of dawn, while the streetlights threw long shadows over the sleek lines of his vehicle.As the cityscape shifted around him, Michael allowed his gaze to drift across the urban terrain. Compared to the industrial sprawl and weathered alleys of the harbor districts, this area bore a different polish. Towers of tinted glass and neon-lit storefronts lined the roads. Sidewalk cafes spilled with sharply dressed patrons. The Southern Sector, at least this part of it, had money. Not the kind the North hoarded in legacy and power, but the hungry, fast kind—rising wealth, eager to flaunt itself. Still, for all its gloss, it couldn't compare to the