Josephine stood in tears clutching a battered wooden rocking horse covered in marker scribbles as Grandfather Robert shoved it toward her, laughing bitterly with Clara that the ruined toy was a perfect match for the little girl.

The harsh buzzing of the satellite phone cut through the quiet elegance of the penthouse. Bennett and Marcus exchanged a dark, knowing look. Bennett didn't hesitate. He tore open the plastic evidence bag, pulled out the heavy device, and pressed the flashing green button. He lifted the phone to his ear but said absolutely nothing, letting the silence hang like a drawn weapon. "Bennett Sterling," a smooth, distorted voice echoed from the other end of the line. The voice lacked the arrogant panic of his father or the whiny desperation of Silas. It was cold, metallic, and terrifyingly calm. "I must congratulate you on a flawlessly executed hostile takeover." "Who is this?" Bennett demanded, his voice a steady, grounding anchor of authority. "You absorbed two hundred million dollars of Robert Sterling's debt in a single morning," the voice continued, completely ignoring the question. "A bold move to protect your charming daughter. But in your rush to bankrupt your father, you failed to verify the original creditors." Bennett’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his mahogany desk. "If you are looking for a payout, you have contacted the wrong firm." The voice chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "We do not want your money, Bennett. Your father owed us favors. Political cover. Port access. By acquiring his assets, you have forcefully acquired his obligations to our syndicate." Bennett’s eyes turned to chips of ice.