"It’s quieter than I expected," Anthony remarked, his reflection in the glass looking older than his years.Fenrick, still favoring his left side as he leaned against a sleek obsidian table, let out a dry cough. "That’s because we aren’t running from assassins or federal marshals today, Anthony. Enjoy the silence. It’s expensive.""Is it silence, or is the world just holding its breath?" Anthony turned, pacing the length of the room. "The ICJ verdict is public. The Ghost Account is being liquidated. But every time I close my eyes, I hear Ezekiel Vance’s voice. A Temporal Trigger. The deepest secret. We deactivated the trigger, Fenrick. We nullified the reserves. Why do I feel like we only trimmed the weeds instead of pulling the roots?"Liora entered the room, her eyes glued to a tablet. Her sharp, professional attire was back, but the dark circles under her eyes told the true story. "We pulled the roots, Anthony. But the soil is still contaminated. The liquidation process is a nightm

"Silas Vane is dead, Anthony. He died in a plane crash over the Alps in 1992," Fenrick said, his voice echoing in the sterile confines of the new digital archive room. "I saw the manifest. I saw the wreckage reports.""Did you see a body, Fenrick?" Anthony asked, his eyes fixed on a screen displaying a grainy, decades-old surveillance still.Fenrick sighed, rubbing his face. "In that kind of crash, there are no bodies. Just dental records and DNA fragments. But why now? Why wait thirty years to reach out?""Because the Pact is finally being dissolved," Liora said, walking into the room with a stack of legal folders. "Silas Vane was the 'Silent Partner.' He was the one who provided the initial political cover in Europe while your grandfather and Ezekiel's father built the financial engine. If he's alive, he's the last surviving member of the original Triad.""And he wants his cut," Vionna added, appearing in the doorway. "The ICJ verdict liquidates the Ghost Account. If Silas is alive,

The warehouse fire had been a strategic masterpiece. By the time Ronan’s team had breached the inner perimeter, Silas, Helena, and their tactical team were gone. Anthony had been left standing in the smoke, the charred remains of the Blue Files at his feet.Back at the VEXO penthouse, the atmosphere was apocalyptic."The ICJ just called," Liora said, her voice hollow. "A massive transfer was initiated from the Ghost Account liquidation fund ten minutes ago. Thirty billion dollars moved to a series of untraceable accounts in the Caymans. They’re accusing you of theft, Anthony.""The Cerberus keys," Anthony said, his voice flat. "Silas has them. He made it look like I authorized the transfer.""Mark and the students are already in the boardroom," Vionna said, looking at her tablet. "The news is breaking. 'The Ethical King’s False Crown.' The narrative is flipping, Anthony. They think this whole 'transparency' thing was a distraction while you prepped the heist.""I have to go in there,"

The hum of the servers seemed to grow louder, a digital roar that filled the small, pressurized chamber. Silas Vane stood amidst the flickering lights like an ancient god in a temple of silicon."Thirty billion is a rounding error, Anthony," Silas said, gesturing to the servers. "The Cerberus stack doesn't just hold the keys to the Ghost Account. It holds the predictive models.""Models for what?" Liora asked, her legal mind already racing to find the threat."The market isn't a force of nature," Silas explained, his voice gaining a terrifying clarity. "It’s a machine. My father and Anthony’s grandfather realized that if you have enough data on enough people, you don't have to react to the future. You can manufacture it. Every recession, every boom, every 'unforeseen' political shift since 1985... it was modeled here first.""You're talking about global manipulation," Mark said, his voice horrified. "You’ve been rigging the world?""Rigging? No. We’ve been stabilizing," Silas countere

The cleanup of the Jodah estate felt like the aftermath of a war. The ICJ had cordoned off the entire property, and a fleet of black SUVs now lined the driveway where garden parties had once been held. Silas Vane and Helena were being led away in separate vehicles, both silent, though Silas’s eyes remained fixed on Anthony until the door closed.Dr. Rostova stood in the charred remains of the Level 3 Sub-Vault, watching her forensics team sift through the slag of the Cerberus servers."The predictive models are gone," she said, her voice sounding uncharacteristically weary. "My analysts tell me that if even ten percent of what Vane claimed was true, we’ve just lost the map to the last thirty years of global finance.""The map was rigged, Doctor," Anthony said, standing near the shattered cylinder. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders, though he didn't feel the cold. "You don't need a map to see a cliff.""Perhaps," Rostova replied. "But now I have thirty billion dollars in limbo