"Everyone in Five-River Province knows the name," Miguel said. "Knowing it and wanting to discuss it are different things." He was quiet for a moment. "Pendleton controls the province's underground financial infrastructure. Not the legitimate networks — the money that moves through channels that don't appear on any documentation. Loans that can't be declined, contracts that can't be broken, debts that are collected by methods that auditors don't review." He looked at Marcus. "He's been operating here for twenty years. Untouchable because he's useful to too many people who would find it inconvenient to have him removed.""How does Atlas Lancaster connect to him?" Marcus said. Miguel thought about this. "Pendleton financed three of the Lancaster family's east corridor acquisitions in the early years, before they were large enough to access legitimate capital at the level they needed. The relationship has been — maintained. Mutually beneficial." He paused. "If Atlas called in that conne

Miguel Abbott hadn't spoken since the car pulled away from Pearl on the Water.That was twenty-two minutes of silence, which was unusual for a man who had spent forty years filling rooms with precisely calibrated speech. Marcus noted it the way he noted most things — completely, without comment — and let it develop at its own pace.It broke when the eastern harbor's industrial fringe appeared outside the window."Seven days," Miguel said."Yes," Marcus said."The specialists I saw—" He stopped. "The best hepatologist in Five-River Province told me the condition was manageable. Not curable. That the progression could be slowed with significant lifestyle modification and a pharmaceutical protocol that costs—" He paused. "The number doesn't matter. He told me it couldn't be cured.""He was right about what he knew," Marcus said. "He didn't know everything.""And you do."Marcus said nothing, which was its own answer.Miguel looked at his left arm, sleeve still rolled down, the surface of

The cold autumn wind swept through Northern Bay Park, carrying with it the scent of impending violence. Marcus Steel stood in the center of the abandoned construction site, hands casually tucked in his pockets, his dragon aura barely contained beneath his calm exterior. Around him, Cesar Pendleton's men formed a tight circle, their weapons gleaming under the dim streetlights.Cesar stepped forward, his face twisted with satisfaction. "Well, well. Look at the big man now. Not so tough without your little tricks, are you?"Marcus's lips curved into a slight smile. "You really think this is enough?""Enough?" Cesar barked out a laugh. "I've got thirty men here, all armed, all ready to make you bleed. What do you have? That smart mouth of yours?""More than you can imagine," Marcus replied, his voice quiet but carrying an edge that made several of Cesar's men shift uncomfortably.Cesar's face darkened. "You humiliated me in front of everyone. Made me look like a fool. Now it's your turn."

The knife pressed harder against Cesar Pendleton's neck, forcing him down. Even now, with hundreds of black-suited men surrounding him and his own forces completely subdued, his pride refused to break completely."You think this is over?" Cesar spat, his voice hoarse but defiant. "You think humiliating me here changes anything? I've survived worse than you, Steel. I've crawled through hell and back. This is nothing—NOTHING!"Marcus stood a few feet away, hands still casually in his pockets, his dragon eyes watching with clinical detachment. "Still talking. That's your problem, Pendleton. You never knew when to shut up.""Make me lick my own shoes?" Cesar's face twisted with rage even as tears of humiliation streaked down his cheeks. "I'd rather die than—"His hand moved with desperate speed, pulling a hidden dart from inside his jacket sleeve. The black-suited man restraining him was his target—one quick strike to the throat, grab his gun, then put a bullet in Marcus Steel's smug face

Marcus's phone buzzed insistently. Miguel Abbott's name flashed on the screen."She's awake," Miguel's voice was cautious. "And... she's causing a scene. You might want to get up here."With a resigned sigh, Marcus ended the call with Brandon Chen and his friends. "This conversation is over. I have actual problems to deal with.""Running away?" Brandon sneered, though he kept his distance after being thrown down once. "That's what I thought. All talk, no—"Marcus was already walking toward the Pearl on the Water building, not bothering to respond. Behind him, Brandon's voice faded into irrelevance.The penthouse suite was in chaos when Marcus arrived. Elize Yarrow stood in the center of the room, wrapped in a hotel robe, her face streaked with tears and mascara. The moment she saw Marcus, she lunged forward."You bastard!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "How could you? How could you do this to me?"Marcus caught her wrists before she could strike him, his grip firm but not painful.