The aftermath of Erik Martin’s intrusion left the Celestial Suite in a state of atmospheric paralysis. For several agonizing seconds, the only sound was the heavy, rhythmic thumping of Erik’s own heart, fueled by a toxic cocktail of adrenaline and the misplaced confidence of the entitled.
John Martin’s face had transitioned from a healthy flush to a cadaverous, waxy white. He stood frozen, his hand still gripping his wine glass so tightly that the stem groaned. In that moment, he felt the entire weight of the the Martin family’s multi-billion dollar empire teetering on a precipice. The silence wasn't just quiet; it was the sound of a legacy being erased in real-time.
Beside him, David Turner and Jeremy Lee—two men who controlled the lifeblood of Novus City's logistics and real estate—sha
