Marcus closed the heavy leather cover with a quiet, solid thud.

“The security team is briefed,” Marcus said.

“No one from that family will set foot on the upper lawn until you give the order.”

“Good,” I said.

“Let them see how big the drive is before they hear a word.”

The late afternoon sun threw long golden streaks across the polished mahogany desk in my private study.

Samuel sat in the armchair across from me, laying out thirty-two cream envelopes that matched the weight and crest of the original invitations.

Inside each envelope was a formal notice of debt acceleration and immediate corporate lease default.