"I am the sole heir to Blackridge Capital."
Victor screamed the words from the bottom of the dogpile. Blood poured from his shattered jaw onto the frozen marble tiles.
"My family owns half the state," Victor pleaded. "I can buy you islands."
The starving elites did not care about islands. They cared about the hot pepperoni pizza glowing on their phone screens.
Cynthia pressed her knees hard into Victor's ribs. She ignored the sound of his bones cracking under her weight.
"Hold his head still," Cynthia commanded the feral mob. "Stop thrashing Victor."
John swung his heavy iron wrench again. The metal connected with Victor's collarbone. A loud snap echoed in the dark lobby.
Victor shrieked in agony. His tailored suit was torn to shreds by desperate clawing hands.
Caroline watched the
