Outside the magnificent, gold-gilded entrance of the Sky Emperor Hotel, the midday sun beat down on the pavement, but the heat of the day was nothing compared to the scorching tension radiating from the gathered crowd.
Ted Wolfe, the tycoon of the Wolfe Group, stepped out of the rear passenger seat of his extended Rolls-Royce Phantom. He adjusted his suit jacket, his round, prosperous face twisted into a mask of genuine confusion as he squinted toward the commotion at the hotel's revolving doors.
He had expected a red carpet, a respectful silence, perhaps the popping of champagne corks to celebrate the return of a king. Instead, he saw a standoff.
"I have been racking my brain for the last few minutes, and I simply cannot wrap my head around it," Ted muttered, his voice dripping with in
