Victor shifts a folder. "Savannah," he says, and the word lands with the weight of a coordinate. "That's where the modern auctions consolidated. Where the council operates with the most control." Even Ruby goes still. "Savannah is where things stopped getting worse and started getting quieter."
Malachi's jaw sets. "And Phoenix Stone is part of that."
Candace doesn't flinch at the name. Phoenix. Her brother. The man who got Amelia and Felix out when the rest of us were still piecing together that they existed. Candace goes rigid every time his name surfaces, jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead, still working out what he is to her.
Victor nods. "Phoenix graduated Brighton Academy years ago and has attended every auction since. Got council access fast, faster than anyone I've tracked, and started shifting things from the inside."
I file that. I don't trust altruism. I trust patterns.
"Rule changes," Victor continues. "Language cleaned up, buyers vetted harder, women given the option to walk away. Penalties for violations that actually stick." He flips a page in the folder. "The structure is the same. The way people move through it is different."
Across the table, East's gaze goes distant and Darla's fingers curl around his forearm, anchoring him without a word.
Malachi's eyes flick to Arden. "And you. You said you had contacts. What do you actually know about Phoenix?"
"I've had eyes on Brighton's world for a long time. My nightclubs put me in the same rooms as their money. Savannah included. That's where I started hearing Phoenix's name before anyone here said it out loud."
"Meaning?"
Arden is quiet long enough that the room feels it. "He watches. He listens. When he does buy, it's for a reason." A pause. "That's as far as I'm willing to go right now."
Malachi holds his gaze. Nods once. Doesn't push. Frankie's pen stills. Just for a beat. Sloane shifts in her chair.
I lean until my mouth is near her ear. "You okay?"
She squeezes my fingers once without looking at me. "You're right here. I'm okay."
Malachi's gaze cuts to me. "Knox." I lift my head. "We need your lane. Your part."
"Tonight. Me and Sloane dig into Harrison Mercer. Deep. Contacts, finances, routines, who he's paying, who's protecting him. We'll bring it back."
Sloane's voice is quiet but firm. "I want proof. Paper trail. Something he can't charm his way out of." That's my wife.
Malachi nods once. "Good."
Victor keeps talking. Timelines, access, the next auction, mapping council power. My jaw clenches because every word that isn't "go now" feels wasted. But I know how this works. You build the picture before you kick the door in.
I look down at her hand in mine. At the slight tremor she doesn't realize she has. The way she holds on anyway.
Through the open window, I can hear Kyle and Rider's hammers thudding in steady rhythm as the pen takes shape.
The meeting sharpens into plans, routes, roles, timing. I keep my hand locked with hers and let everything else fall into the background.
Harrison Mercer is still breathing. I'm going to fix that.
Chapter 36
Knox
Thegirlsareoutside.Early afternoon sun on gravel, a half-built pen, Ruby's laugh carrying clean over the fence line.
Nasty Nash Jr. is in the center of it all, squat and smug, chewing on what might've been important five minutes ago. Sloane crouches in the grass with her sleeves pushed up, braid swinging, one hand braced on her knee while the other scratches under the goat's chin. He leans into her touch, already decided she's his.
Inside, the air is warmer and thicker. It smells of wood polish baked into the walls and coffee that's been reheated too many times. The faint bite of smoke clings to leather and denim. The room hums with familiar sounds. Balls cracking on felt, darts thunking into cork, low voices layered over each other.
I'm near the pool table with a beer sweating cold against my palm, watching the window the way I'd watch a scope. Sloane laughs, bright and unguarded, and my body reacts the way it always does. The kind of want that doesn't ask permission.
East lines up a shot and misses by a mile.
