Caleb flinched, his entire body jerking back as if physically struck by the quiet accusation. His face paled for a fraction of a second before rushing back into a defensive, blotchy red."Scared?! Me?!" Caleb stammered, his chest puffing out in a desperate, clumsy attempt to save face in front of Celine. He forced a frantic, defensive laugh, though his eyes darted nervously toward his guards. "Don't flatter yourself, grease monkey! I'm not scared of a dead man! I'm just... I'm worried you're a spy!"He crossed his arms tightly, trying to sound logical while his voice still trembled with adrenaline. "Yeah, that's it! You walk in here, assault my men, demand to see the private syndicate records of Rolling Shipping Limited... You're an industrial spy sent by one of our rivals, aren't you? Why else would nobody give a damn about who gambles here?!""I'm not a spy," Slayde said, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with a patience that was rapidly running out.He reached into the inner

A deep, heavy frown creased Slayde’s face. His brow furrowed in complete, icy dissatisfaction as Caleb’s desperate screeches filled the room. He didn't move an inch as the guards instinctively stepped forward, their weapons half-raised."I won," Slayde said. His voice was low, vibrating through the small VIP room with an absolute, chilling authority that made the guards' trigger fingers hesitate. "Hand over the ledger.""Hand it over?!" Caleb roared, his face transitioning from a ghostly white to a manic, toxic purple. "Are you out of your mind?!"With a scream of pure, unadulterated rage, Caleb slammed his thighs against the edge of the heavy table and hoisted upward. With a deafening crash, the massive piece of furniture flipped completely over. Hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of heavy plastic chips rained across the floor, and the perfect royal straight flush was scattered into the velvet carpet like garbage."I don't acknowledge a single thing from a street rat!" Caleb

"If word gets out to the other partners that a lone dock worker dismantled your elite security and made you beg for your life on the floor," Celine continued smoothly, her voice cutting through the quiet office like a razor blade, "your father will never let you inherit a single share of Rolling Shipping Limited. You'll be the laughingstock of the entire sector."Caleb’s breath caught in his throat.The toxic flush on his face quickly drained, leaving him sickeningly pale as the brutal truth of her words sank in. His father valued power and reputation above all else. If the old man found out Caleb had been brought to his knees by a nobody, it wouldn't just be an embarrassment; it would be the end of his inheritance."The only way you ever recover from this humiliation," Celine whispered, leaning down slightly so her eyes locked with his frantic gaze, "is if you find him yourself. You need to take that ledger back before the other syndicate families realize it's gone. Otherwise, ever

Nash took a deep breath and tapped his terminal. A blue holographic map of the lower docks flared to life between them, its luminous lines connecting tangled shipping bays and casting a cool glow across the dim bedroom."Maya's father used an alias," Nash began, pointing to a flashing node on the display. "In the syndicate logs, he went by Ari Mill. He wasn't just a regular at Caleb’s tables; he was drowning in debt to Rolling Shipping Limited. Three years ago, his name completely vanished from the gambling ledgers."Slayde stared at the map, his face unreadable as he took a slow sip of his coffee. "Where did he go?""That's the thing," Nash said, zooming in on Cargo Bay 4. "He didn't run. The ledger shows his debt was suddenly bought out by a private contractor—a shell company owned directly by Caleb's father. Right after it cleared, Vance was transferred to a high-security warehouse near the old industrial docks." Nash looked up, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Boss, he’

Slayde finally turned away from the rain-streaked glass, a faint, predatory glint returning to his eyes.A high-society gala packed with the very oligarchs who believed they owned the city’s concrete foundations was the perfect place to hide in plain sight. It was a flawless opportunity to gather intelligence and exert psychological pressure on the ruling class while Caleb dragged his boots through the muck."We go," Slayde rumbled, his voice a low, resonant vibration. He glanced down at his scuffed leather jacket and worn combat boots. "Choose the colors, Nash. Coordinate the attire, the credentials, and the logistics."Nash grinned, his hacker intellect instantly pivoting to high-society infiltration. "You got it, boss. I'll ensure we look the part. And just so you're aware, Celine is going to be the center of gravity tonight. The girl is a master at working a room; she practically dictates the social hierarchy up there.""Let her play," Slayde replied flatly. "We are only there