The first firefighter who tried to move Bruno nearly lost his glove. The second stopped trying.

The grand marble corridors of the Chicago City Hall echoed with the sharp heel-clicks of lawyers, reporters, and city officials rushing between courtroom chambers.

In Courtroom 402, Victor Vance sat behind the plaintiff's table. He was a sharp, slick man in his early fifties, wearing an immaculate grey Italian suit, gold-rimmed wire spectacles, and an expression of smug, untouchable confidence. Flanking him were four high-priced corporate defense attorneys carrying leather briefcases stuffed with motion filings.

On the other side of the aisle, Emily sat beside Dante and their lead legal counsel, Sarah Sterling. Bruno sat quietly beneath the defense bench, his massive head resting flat against Emily’s leather shoes, keeping a silent, watchful vigil over the courtroom.

Judge Helena Ross struck her wooden gavel hard against the soundblock, bringing the crowded room to immediate order.

"We are here to consider an emergency injunction filed by Vance International Holdings regarding forty-two land titles currently held by the Carter-Vitali Housing Trust," Judge Ross announced, peering over her half-moon reading glasses. "Mr. Vance, your petition claims these titles were transferred fraudulently under coercion."

Victor Vance stood up slowly, smoothing his tailored jacket. He adopted a smooth, practiced tone that dripped with rehearsed sincerity.

"Your Honor," Victor began, pointing a manicured finger toward Dante. "My late brother, Marcus Vance, was ruthlessly exploited by the Vitali family for over a decade. When Marcus passed away, Mr. Vitali utilized illegal muscle—specifically threatening Mr. Richard Vale—to strip my family's firm of its legitimate real estate holdings under the guise of a 'charitable trust.' We are simply asking the court to freeze these assets until a full federal forensic audit can be conducted."

A murmur rippled through the press gallery behind the wooden gallery bar.

Judge Ross turned her stern gaze toward the defense table. "Mr. Vitali? Miss Carter? How do you respond?"

Sarah Sterling stood up to present their oral defense, but before she could speak, the rear double doors of the courtroom swung open with a heavy creak.

Samuel Hayes shuffled down the central carpeted aisle, clutching a dusty, yellowed leather-bound volume in his liver-spotted hands. Beside him walked Gabe, carrying a secured steel digital briefcase.

Victor Vance’s smug expression flickered slightly. His eyes darted toward the steel briefcase, a faint twinge of nervousness visible in the tension of his jaw.

"Your Honor," Emily said, standing up beside her desk. "Before the court considers freezing the housing trust's accounts, we request permission to submit physical evidence into the official record."

Judge Ross nodded. "Permission granted. Bring it forward."

Samuel set the heavy leather volume onto the clerk's podium, opening it to a flagged page stamped with the official seal of the Chicago Building Inspection Division dated four years prior.

"Your Honor," Samuel explained, his voice loud, clear, and ringing with four decades of unyielding authority. "My name is Samuel Hayes. I served as senior municipal inspector for forty years. This volume is the original physical ledger detailing the corporate structuring of Vance International Holdings."

Victor’s lead attorney jumped to his feet. "Objection, Your Honor! This document was not included in the pre-trial discovery filings!"

"Overruled," Judge Ross stated firmly. "This is a preliminary injunction hearing. I will allow the inspector to speak. Continue, Mr. Hayes."

Samuel pointed his thin finger directly at Victor Vance. "Marcus Vance didn't own Vance International Holdings, Your Honor. Marcus was merely a named nominee. The absolute majority owner of every shell company connected to those forty-two buildings—including the illegal gas bypass contractors—was Victor Vance himself, operating through an unregistered Panamanian account under the pseudonym 'Vane Logistics'."

Emily stepped forward, gesturing to the steel briefcase Gabe was opening on the evidence table.

"Inside this briefcase, Your Honor," Emily announced, her voice echoing with utter conviction, "are the digital bank logs extracted from the offshore server Victor Vance accessed three hours ago from his hotel suite in the Loop. He wasn't trying to protect his brother's estate. He was trying to wire two million dollars out of the tenants' emergency repair fund into a non-extradition bank account in Zurich."

Victor Vance’s face turned from pale to completely ash-white. He slammed his hand against his table, turning fiercely to his lawyers. "Do something!" he hissed under his breath.

Judge Ross leaned over her bench, examining the physical ledger pages alongside the printed bank transfer logs handed up by the court bailiff. Her eyes grew colder with every line she read.

"Mr. Vance," Judge Ross said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp tone that chilled the entire room. "It appears to this court that your petition for an emergency injunction was not filed in good faith. In fact, it appears to be a direct attempt to commit grand larceny using this legal chamber as a distraction."

She struck her wooden gavel down with a thunderous crack!

"The petition for injunction is DENIED with prejudice," Judge Ross ruled authoritatively. "The freeze order on the Carter-Vitali Housing Trust is lifted immediately. Furthermore, I am remanding Mr. Victor Vance into the custody of federal marshals pending formal indictment for corporate fraud, arson conspiracy, and embezzlement!"

Four federal marshals stepped from the side doors, stepping up behind Victor Vance and snapping steel handcuffs around his wrists before he could take a single step toward the door.

As Victor was led away through the gallery, he glared furiously at Dante. "You think you've won, Vitali? You can't wash the dirt off your name with a housing trust!"