MattThe silver tray in my hand weighed ten pounds, but the shame weighed a ton.I stood in the center of the Grand Regency Ballroom, a ghost in a white vest, surrounded by the very people who had cheered when I was dragged out of my father’s office in handcuffs three years ago. The air was thick with the scent of five-hundred-dollar steaks and the kind of perfume that cost more than my sister’s monthly oxygen supply.I kept my eyes on the polished marble floor. If I didn’t look at them, I was just a piece of furniture. If I remained furniture, I wouldn't get fired. If I didn't get fired, my darling Lilly lived another month."Still as invisible as ever, aren't you, Matt?"My heart stopped. I knew that voice. It was the sound of every nightmare I’d had since the trial.I looked up and Clyde Vanguard was standing three feet away, his arm wrapped around Sarah’s waist. Sarah—my fiancée, or she had been, until she realized Clyde had more zeros in his bank account and a darker soul to m

The silence of the VVIP wing was louder than the sirens had been.I sat by Lilly’s bed, the ruined navy silk tie still draped around my neck like a noose. I had washed the chemical foam from my face in the sink, but my skin still burned, and the cuts on my fingers had stopped bleeding, leaving only a dull throb.The room was larger than my entire apartment. Lilly looked like a porcelain doll lost in a field of white linen."I promised you a palace, didn't I?" I whispered, my voice cracking. I squeezed her hand. It was still cold, but for the first time in three years, I didn't have to wonder if Marcus would pull the sheets over her head by morning.My phone vibrated.[ASSET UPDATED: SANCTUM HEIGHTS][STAFF LOYALTY SCANNING... COMPLETE.][92% OF BOARD MEMBERS ARE ON THE VANGUARD PAYROLL.]I stared at the screen. The System wasn't just giving me wealth as well as a map of the rot. I had bought the building, but I hadn't cleared the rats out of the walls yet.A sharp, rhythmic clicking e

The revolving glass doors of the Grand Regency felt like the jaws of a beast I had lived inside for three years.I was still wearing the ruined vest, and the dried chemical foam still crusted the edges of my hair. I looked like a ghost that had crawled out of a sewer, but as I walked across the lobby, I didn't keep my head down. My shadow stretched long across the marble, cutting through the path of socialites who stepped back as if my poverty was contagious."Sir! Stop right there!"I didn't have to look up to know who it was. Mr. Henderson, the floor manager, was marching toward me. He was a man who wore his self-importance like a cheap cologne, and he had spent the last year making sure I got every shift that involved cleaning the grease traps."Amah? You've got some nerve showing your face here after the stunt you pulled at the banquet!" Henderson’s face twisted into a mask of pure indignation. "Security is already looking for you. You’re lucky I haven't call the police myself fo

The state penitentiary was a tooth of concrete and rusted wire rising out of the salt marshes. It was where the city sent the people it wanted to forget, and for three years, Silas Neville had been at the top of that list.Silas had been my father’s Chief of Staff—the man who knew every secret, every offshore account, and every politician’s price. When the Vanguard Group orchestrated the takeover, they didn't just fire him; they framed him for a multi-million dollar embezzlement scheme that kept him silent behind bars.I sat in the backseat of a blacked-out SUV, the leather smelling of brand-new luxury. Aris sat beside me, his eyes glued to a tablet."The warden’s name is Miller," Aris said, his voice sharp and sober. "He’s a man of simple tastes: high-stakes gambling and offshore real estate. Clyde Vanguard has been topping off his retirement fund for years to ensure Silas never sees a visitor’s log, let alone a parole board.""Then it’s time to offer him a better retirement plan,"

The drive was a cold weight in my pocket, but the target on my back felt heavier.We exited the Vanguard Tower not through the lobby, but through the service tunnel Silas had pried open via the building’s maintenance sub-routine. The city air hit me—sharp, biting, and suddenly thick with the scent of a hunt. Five hundred million dollars was enough to turn the most loyal saint into a Judas, and every pair of headlights reflecting in the puddles felt like a scope finding its mark."We can't go back to the Grand Regency," Aris said, his eyes scanning the perimeter as we piled into the SUV. He was already checking the chamber of a compact pistol he’d pulled from the glovebox. "Clyde’s hit contract is broadcast on the Dark-Grid. Every freelancer within five hundred miles just got a notification. The hotel is a fishbowl.""He’s right, Matt," Silas added, his fingers flying across the keys of his laptop, the screen a blur of red-coded alerts. "I’m tracking three encrypted signals followin