Nessa Clarke reached down to retrieve the fallen napkin, freezing as Ellis shifted his foot and a short chain pulled taut between his ankle cuff and the heavy chair.

Elias Vance stared at the small device, his breath hitching in his throat. He pulled a laptop from his briefcase and inserted the drive. The screen illuminated his terrified, sweating face. Inside the drive were hundreds of highly classified offshore bank ledgers, proving the prosecutor had knowingly accepted campaign contributions from international human trafficking cartels early in his career. "My cyber division... is incredibly thorough," Callum murmured, his voice a freezing void. "You built a career prosecuting men like me, while being funded by men far worse." Vance collapsed backward onto the leather sofa, entirely broken. The legal shield he had hidden behind was utterly destroyed. "If you leak this to the press, my career is over. I will go to prison," Vance wept, his arrogant facade completely shattered. "You will go to prison," Callum agreed smoothly, pacing slowly with his hands clasped behind his back. "Unless you drop the RICO case by midnight. You will resign from your office tomorrow morning, citing a desire to spend more time with your family. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Vance?"

The corrupt prosecutor nodded frantically, tears streaming down his fair, rosy cheeks. He had attempted to dismantle the most dangerous Mafia Boss in the country and had been utterly annihilated without a single shot being fired. Callum didn't offer a dramatic speech or physical violence. The psychological destruction was complete and permanent. Callum turned his back on the weeping federal agent and walked out of the VIP lounge. He navigated the silent, terrified restaurant, his polished leather shoes echoing against the hardwood. His elite operators fell into step behind him as they exited into the crisp night air. "The federal holds on our shipping containers are already being lifted, Boss," Silas reported from the front seat of the armored SUV, checking a secure tablet. "Vance is drafting his resignation letter." "Excellent," Callum murmured softly. "The syndicate remains legitimate. No one touches our assets." He leaned back against the plush leather, eager to return to the only thing that truly mattered.