Czar didn't wait for the ink to dry on his promise. As far as he was concerned, if a man used a sick elder as a shield, he forfeited the right to hold that shield any longer.
In the quiet of the Rossi study, the phone rang. Harold snatched it up, his voice cracking with a desperate hope. "Hello? Is it done?"
"The bloodletting has stopped, Harold," Czar’s voice came through the line, cold and sharp as a guillotine blade. "I’ve pulled my firms back. The market will stabilize by morning."
Harold slumped back, a massive sob of relief escaping his throat. "Thank you, Czar. Thank you. We can rebuild, we can—"
"Don't thank me," Czar interrupted, his tone turning like ice. "I haven't given you a dime. I’ve simply stopped pulling the trigger. You are still bankrupt in spirit, and your accounts
