Chapter 7

The auction hall air tasted of ozone and stale espresso. Elias stood on the dais, his presence a sharp, unyielding line against the polished mahogany. Below him, the room held its breath. Vane, the conglomerate’s primary enforcer, stood near the front row, his composure fracturing like dry glass under the weight of the federal seal Elias had just brandished.

“The judge who signed this injunction, Vane,” Elias said, his voice dropping into that low, resonant frequency that cut through the murmurs of the gallery, “died three weeks ago. I suggest you update your forgeries before the next federal audit, or you might find yourself explaining them to a coroner instead of a clerk.”

The silence that followed was absolute. Gasps rippled through the gallery as the reality of the forgery hit the room. Vane’s face turned a mottled, bruised purple, his hand twitching toward his lapel. Elias didn't flinch. He was the center of gravity, and the entire auction hung on his next word.

“The auction is void,” Elias declared, his gaze sweeping the room. “By federal mandate, the Lane district assets are under protective seizure. Any attempt to tender a bid is a criminal act again

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