The Larkspur Regency’s Grand Ballroom looked as though someone had poured money onto marble and let it solidify. Crystal chandeliers dropped light like liquid gold; a six-piece string ensemble smoothed Bach into background silk. Politicians, tech magnates, and legacy heirs paraded silk lapels and diamond-pinned gowns, every smile rehearsed, every laugh just a hair too loud.
Tonight was Senator Mark Cole’s victory lap. Tomorrow, headlines would crown him the savior of student debt, or so he thought.
Cain had other plans for him.
Up in a service corridor that circled the domed ceiling, a single utility door should have been locked. It clicked open instead. Axil hood up, cobalt fringe peeking beneath slipped inside with a backpack full of neon circuitry and quiet panic. He found a dead
