Chapter 6

The lockout notice was already spread across the prep table when Xavier stepped into The Gilded Spoon, its red city seal pinning the paper like a wound that had been officially dressed. The front room was still dark except for the strip lights over the counter. A half-packed breakfast tray sat untouched. Two staff members hovered near the espresso machine as if moving too quickly might count as trespassing. Victor Thorne’s lawyer, crisp in a charcoal coat, stood with one finger tapping the top line of the notice. Beside him, a city enforcement officer in a navy jacket kept his hands folded behind his back, posture rigid with borrowed authority. Neither man looked surprised to see Xavier. That was the insult. They had expected him to arrive after the doors were chained.

Aunt Maeve stood behind the counter, one palm braced on the register drawer. Her face had gone pale in the fluorescent light, but she did not beg. That, too, was a habit Xavier recognized. She had learned long ago that begging in rooms like this only taught men where to press harder.

“Morning,” the lawyer said, without warmth. “You’re late to your own eviction.”

Xavier ignored him and looked at the paper first. Not the faces. The paper. The officer straightened. “By city order, this location is under immediate preservation lockout pending enforcement transfer.” He slid a copy toward the edge of the table with the precise movement of a man who had done this a hundred times.

Xavier picked it up. His eyes scanned the fine print, past the bolded sections, past the city seal, straight to the procedural language. “This order cites a completed transfer of assets. The auction package for the Gilded Spoon was frozen yesterday due to an incomplete valuation appendix and missing sealed bid proof. You know this. The city clerk confirmed it.”

The lawyer’s jaw tightened. “A clerical error. Easily rectified.”

“Not for an immediate enforcement transfer,” Xavier countered, his voice flat. “The order states ‘pending completion of all legally required documentation.’ It’s not complete. Your own language invalidates your immediate lockout.” He held up the paper, tapping a specific clause. “That means this notice is premature. It’s a threat, not an order.”

The officer hesitated, his rigid posture faltering. He glanced

Preview ends here. Subscribe to continue.