Marven looked at the red envelope in front of him as if it were an outdated fax from the last century. No one rushed to open it. No one said a word for several seconds — a strange kind of silence, like the hush before a burst of laughter.
And sure enough, it came.
Reginald was the first to chuckle quietly, tilting his head toward Lucas as if he had just witnessed a poorly performed play.
“You think…” he drawled, “…a no-name guy carrying a folder and some unverifiable label from an ‘independent’ agency can just walk in here and freeze an Alpha-level transaction worth hundreds of millions of dollars?”
Lucas didn’t respond. That question wasn’t meant to be answered.
Marven still hadn’t lifted his hand from the pen. He slowly picked it up, tilted it toward the light, and said softly, “You
