The sirens grow louder.
Red and blue lights flash at the end of the pier as police vehicles approach the construction site. Officers spill out, their radios crackling, their boots echoing against the steel and concrete.
But Margaret Lawson doesn’t look worried.
She looks satisfied.
Marcus exhales slowly beside me. “Well… that was a very illegal accusation.”
Margaret tilts her head slightly. “Was it?”
Adrian’s voice drops into a tone I’ve only heard a few times before—cold, controlled, dangerous. “You’re suggesting my wife orchestrated an assassination attempt against me.”
Margaret folds her arms calmly. “I’m suggesting the investigators will see a compelling narrative.”
Marcus groans. “Oh fantastic. Corporate conspiracy theater.”
Victor Salazar shifts weakly on the ground, watchin
