The atmosphere across the primary estate was electric with controlled chaos. House staff moved in synchronized precision, adjusting floral arrangements and setting up highboy tables while -set enforcers took up strategic perimeters across the main pavilion. I hadn't fully appreciated the sheer scale of the central lobby until now—with the everyday furniture cleared out, the floor opened into a massive, cavernous hall capable of accommodating a full syndicate summit. Or a slaughter.

"You have the rooftop detail locked in position?" I asked, speaking softly into the microscopic earbud concealed in my ear.

I couldn't afford to let anyone inside the house suspect I was receiving off-grid tactical feeds. Aside from...