The Beggar in the Lobby Was the Supreme King

Chapter 062

The sudden, chilling weight of Ron Sherock’s departure left an echoing silence in the Heaven Box that was almost physical. His words—sharp, cryptic, and laced with a genuine dread—hung in the stagnant air like a thick fog.

Sydney Harvey felt a cold shiver trace the line of his spine. He had spent decades climbing the cutthroat social and economic ladders of Veridian, and his instincts for self-preservation were honed to a razor's edge. Ron wasn't a man prone to hyperbole; if the head of the Sherock family was terrified of a provincial upstart family from Ambershire, then the Harvey family needed to reassess the entire battlefield. The Smith family was clearly not the easy prey Carlos Millmore made them out to be. There were shadows moving behind the Mosaic Corporation that they hadn't even begun to map.

Carlos Millmore and Louis Clifford stood frozen, their faces tight with a mixture of mounting fury and growing unease.

Louis was the first to break the silence, his voice a low growl of frustration. "Dammit, Ron! You’re poisoning the well! You're telling me a tiny, backwater clan from a Tier-2 city has you shaking in your boots? They’re nobobs! A flash in the pan!"

He was fishing, his words a desperate attempt at psychological warfare to goad Ron into revealing the source of his fear. But Ron Sherock was no fool. He knew that some secrets, once shared, carried a death sentence. He didn't even look back.

"I have said all that needs to be said. Good day to you, gentlemen," Ron replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of the moment. He walked out, flanked by his son Timothy Sherock and the hulking presence of Juandi Anderson, their footsteps fading into the plush carpets of the hallway.

As they reached the exit, Ron paused and looked back at Sydney Harvey, who was still standing by the table, indecisive. "Are you coming, Sydney? Or do you wish to go down with a sinking ship?"

Sydney looked at Carlos, then at the shattered remains of the alliance. He didn't want to make an enemy of the Millmore family, but he feared the unknown power behind Ethan Smith even more. "Wait for me, Ron. I think I’ve had quite enough tea for one afternoon."

Sydney signaled to his son, Dan Harvey, and his guardian, Adam Somner. They followed the Sherock family out, leaving the architects of the coup alone in the wreckage of their grand design.

CRASH!

The sound of porcelain shattering against the hardwood floor erupted like a gunshot. Carlos Millmore had swept his arm across the table in a blind rage, sending his exquisite tea set flying.

"Cowards! Traitors!" Carlos hissed, his face contorted into a mask of pure vitriol. "I offered them a seat at the table of kings, and they ran like scolded curs! I did them a favor by inviting them, and this is how they repay the Millmore family?"

Louis Clifford watched the display with a grim, calculating expression. He didn't share Carlos's explosive temper; his was a colder, more clinical brand of malice. "Let them go, Carlos. Breathe. We don't need those wavering fools. If they don't have the stomach for the blood that’s about to be spilled, they’d only be a liability in the field. Besides, with them out of the picture, there are fewer mouths to feed when we divide the Mosaic Corporation's assets."

He paused, his eyes narrowing as he paced the room. "The Smith family might have some local muscle, but they don't have our history. They don't have our reach. Between the Clifford family and the Millmore family, we have enough private security and political capital to level half of Ambershire. We could wipe out the Sherock family if we really wanted to—so why should we fear Iris Smith?"

Carlos took a deep breath, smoothing his disheveled hair. "You're right. I was thinking of taking them all out—Harvey, Sherock, and the Smiths. But we can't be too reckless. If we start a four-way war in the middle of Veridian, the Governor will be forced to bring down the hammer. We need to be surgical."

"Exactly," Louis agreed, leaning against the doorframe. "Direct military action is too loud. We need to throttle them. We use our combined banking influence to freeze Mosaic's credit lines. We choke their supply chains. We turn Ambershire into a desert for them."

Carlos shook his head slowly. "That takes too long. And if the Sherock family decides to play hero and funnel them emergency cash, we’ll be stuck in a stalemate while they grow stronger. No, we need a catalyst. A way to draw them out and test their mettle without committing our main forces."

The room fell silent as they brainstormed, the air thick with the smell of spilled tea and the cold intent of murder.

Finally, Travis Clifford stepped forward. The young man had been quiet, observing the older generation's posturing with a mix of boredom and ambition. "Father, Uncle Carlos, I might have an angle. My scouts tell me that Iris Smith has a younger sister—Alice Smiths, the seventh of the siblings. She’s some kind of medical prodigy, obsessed with traditional medicine and rare artifacts."

Justin Millmore chimed in, his eyes lighting up. "I’ve heard the same. She's been hunting for high-end equipment for her practice. Specifically, she's been looking for the Mysterious Needle—ranked third on the Top Needle List. It’s a legendary set of tools for any practitioner of the high arts."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Louis Clifford’s face. "The Florez family... they are subsidiaries of mine, aren't they? They run the high-end antiquity trade in the West District."

"Exactly," Travis replied. "We leak a rumor. We let it be known through the grapevine that Dirk Florez has acquired the Mysterious Needle. We put it up for a private viewing at a secure location. Alice Smiths won't be able to resist. She’ll come to us."

Carlos nodded, the plan clicking into place. "And once we have the girl, we have leverage. We see who comes to rescue her. We see if the Supreme Security Company actually puts boots on the ground for a doctor. It’s a low-risk, high-reward gambit. If the Smiths are as weak as we think, we kill her and move in. If they’re strong, we have a hostage to negotiate our way out."

While the two families plotted their k********g at the Elysian Restaurant, a very different conversation was happening across town at the Oasis Restaurant.

Ron Sherock and Sydney Harvey sat in a secluded booth in the Heaven Box of the Oasis, the atmosphere here far more relaxed but no less serious.

Sydney leaned forward, his voice a whisper. "Ron, you’re holding out on me. You didn't just leave back there because you were worried about a bad investment. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. What do you know about the Smith family that the rest of us don’t?"

Ron stared into his tea, his reflection looking back at him with tired eyes. "I’m not trying to be the 'last man standing,' Sydney. I’m trying to ensure my family survives the coming storm. I’m going to do something that Carlos would call treason: I’m going to offer my support to the Mosaic Corporation."

Sydney nearly choked on his drink. "Are you insane? You're going to back a newcomer against two of the most powerful families in the state? You’ll be crushed!"

"Will I?" Ron looked up, his gaze piercing. "Three years ago, the Millmores, the Cliffords, and the Rogers families allied to destroy the Sherocks. We were days away from bankruptcy, from total dissolution. Do you remember what happened?"

Sydney nodded slowly. "Your brother, Mario Sherock, returned from his 'sabbatical' abroad. He broke the alliance single-handedly. No one knows how he did it, but the pressure vanished overnight."

"My brother didn't do it alone," Ron whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "He sent me a coded message last week. He told me that he is nothing more than a foot soldier, a 'low-level operative' in the service of a man he calls the Supreme King. And he told me that this King is currently residing in Ambershire, looking after his sisters."

Sydney’s face went pale. The Supreme King. The name was a myth in the underworld, a title whispered with reverence in the halls of global power. If Ethan Smith was even remotely connected to that entity, then Carlos and Louis weren't just picking a fight—they were committing suicide.

"If the Supreme King is involved," Sydney stammered, his mind racing, "then Veridian is about to become a graveyard."

"Exactly," Ron said, his voice hard. "So, you have a choice, Sydney. You can sit on the sidelines and hope the fallout doesn't burn your house down, or you can join me in making sure we’re on the side of the man who holds the lightning."

The silence that followed was long and heavy. Outside, the sun began to set over Ambershire, casting long, jagged shadows across the Mosaic Tower, a monolith of glass and steel that seemed to pulse with an unseen, predatory energy. The pieces were moving on the board, and for the first time in a century, the Great Families weren't the ones playing the game. They were the pawns.