The key turned in the heavy brass lock with a dull, metallic click. The door to the private study swung inward, exposing a thin wedge of yellow light from the hallway.

The rain had ceased by eight in the morning, leaving the city draped in a thick, gray fog.

In the lower level of the estate's security wing, Paul was tied securely to a heavy steel chair beneath a single overhead light bulb. His face was pale, bruised, and slick with cold sweat. Marcus stood beside him with his arms crossed, while Victor sat on a wooden stool across from him, sipping black coffee.

"I’m going to ask you one last time, Paul," Victor said, setting his cup down on a metal tray. "And if I don't like the answer, Marcus is going to take you to the docks, and you will never see daylight again."

Paul shivered violently, his knees knocking together. "I didn't have a choice, Victor! I swear to God! Thorne found out about my private debts! He told me if I didn't give him access to your estate servers, he’d kill my wife!"

"You always have a choice," Victor replied coldly. "You chose to betray me. You chose to starve an innocent girl. And you chose to put a gun to my back."

"What did Thorne offer you for the estate keys?" Marcus demanded, stepping closer.

"Five hundred thousand," Paul sobbed, breaking down completely. "And a ticket out of the country! He said... he said he was moving on the north harbor docks tonight! He’s bringing in a shipment of unregistered weapons at midnight! He needed Victor dead so your men would be too chaotic to respond!"

Victor exchanged a sharp look with Marcus.

The north harbor docks were the lifeblood of Victor’s legal shipping business and his primary territorial stronghold. If Thorne seized the docks, Victor's empire would crumble within forty-eight hours.

"Where is the shipment coming from?" Victor asked.

"A foreign container ship... the Iron Trident," Paul babbled desperately, giving up everything. "Thorne bought off the harbor master! They’re unloading at Pier 14 at midnight! Mason was supposed to give the signal that you were dead at ten o'clock!"

Victor stood up slowly from the stool. "Marcus, lock him in the sub-basement cell. Strip him of all comms. Nobody talks to him until this is over."

"Got it, Boss," Marcus said, grabbing Paul by the collar as the man continued to weep and beg for mercy.

Victor walked out of the interrogation room, stepping up into the warm, sunlit hallways of the main house. The contrast between the dark torture chambers below and the grand, luxurious estate above was stark.

As he walked toward his private quarters, he saw Lily standing near the library entrance. She was holding a tray with a fresh cup of herbal tea and a plate of warm toast. She looked better than she had hours ago, having washed her face and changed into a clean, simple sweater, but the exhaustion was still evident in her posture.

"Mr. Hayes," she said softly as he approached. "I... I made you some tea. The doctor said you shouldn't be drinking heavy coffee with your shoulder wound."

Victor stopped, staring at the tray. For years, people in his house served him out of fear or obligation. But looking at Lily, he saw genuine, quiet concern.

"Thank you, Lily," Victor said, taking the cup from the tray. He took a slow sip. "It's good."

Lily smiled faintly, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I spoke to Liam on the phone a few minutes ago. Marcus's men let me call him. He... he cried when he found out what I’d been doing. He had no idea."

"Is he coming here?" Victor asked.

"No," Lily said, shaking her head. "I told him to stay at his apartment and stay out of trouble. He’s looking for a real job now." She looked up at Victor, her expression turning serious. "What happens now, Mr. Hayes? Is it over?"