The rain over the metropolis had turned into a thin, icy mist by five in the morning, drifting like silver dust through the shattered glass of the Vance Tower penthouse.
Gabriel Vance sat slumped against the far wall of his ruined office, his velvet smoking jacket stained with plaster dust and rain. The blaring alarm on his desktop terminal had finally fallen silent, replaced by a dark, glowing screen displaying a single line of terminal code that confirmed absolute financial annihilation. His posture was hollow; the cold, aristocratic arrogance that had defined him hours ago was entirely gone.
Adrian stood near the edge of the broken window, his silhouette dark against the pale gray dawn creeping over the skyline. His tactical pistol remained in his hand, lowered toward the floor but re
