Violet Ross gave a curt, professional nod, her fountain pen scratching across the legal pad as she drew two thick, decisive lines beneath the final notes of the session. The ink was dark, mirroring the gravity of the testimony they had just secured.
“Is there anything else, Winston?” Ambrose Ward asked, his voice retaining its calm, measured warmth. He watched the man across the table, looking for any lingering shadows of hesitation.
“No, that’s all I have,” Winston Grant replied, shaking his head slowly. The adrenaline from the earlier scuffle had completely ebbed away, leaving him looking like a man who had finally put down a crushing weight. “I’ve spent most of my career buried in blueprints and site inspections. I stayed out of the inner sanctum where the real deals were made. I didn
