"Stone." Helena's voice called out to the guard already approaching them. "Tell your... associates that my son will address everyone at the conclusion of our gathering." Her smile was no smile. "Their patience will be rewarded."The guard – built like a brick wall in an Armani suit – shifted uncomfortably. His eyes darted between Helena and Mason, uncertainty written in every line of his face. "Mrs. King, with all due respect... The elders insist on knowing now. They say tradition demands—""Tradition?" Mason's laugh carried just enough edge to make smart people nervous. "Last I checked, tradition also demanded respect for the family head's decisions." His fingers drummed against the crystal water glass, each tap like a hammer striking steel. "Or have things changed that much while I was away?"Charlotte's eyes sparkled with barely contained mischief. "Oh, this is gonna be good."Eve, deadly grace wrapped in designer silk, caught Mason's eye across the table. Her slight nod carried vo

"You sound just like him sometimes." Helena's voice carried something that might have been grief, if grief came wrapped in steel. "Thomas had that same way of making threats sound like poetry.""Maybe that's why you haven't exposed me yet." Mason guided her through another turn, perfect as sin. "Because for just a moment, when I talk like him, move like him – you can pretend he ain't really gone."Helena's laugh was poison. "Or maybe I'm just curious to see how far you'll take this little charade before it all comes crashing down.""Speaking of crashing..." Mason's eyes flicked to where the four family elders had gathered, their faces dark as storm clouds. "Them vultures over there? They ain't just here about succession. They're here because they know something's changed. Power's shifting. Old alliances are breaking down.""And you think you're the one to stop it?" Helena's voice dripped aristocratic amusement."I think..." Mason spun her out, then drew her back in close enough to whis

Ethan Langford stormed through the ballroom like a hurricane in designer shoes, bourbon fumes trailing in his wake. His perfect hair had come slightly undone – the first crack in a facade that was about to shatter completely.The sight of Mason lounging at the King family table, radiating casual power like he'd been born to it, sent Ethan's blood pressure through the gilded ceiling."Well, well." Ethan's voice carried enough venom to stock a pharmacy. "If it isn't Chicago's trending thief."Mason didn't even glance up from his conversation with Helena. Just kept talking, soft and easy, like Ethan was nothing more than background noise.That casual dismissal hit Ethan harder than any punch. His face flushed red."Mrs. King." Ethan switched targets, aiming for charm but landing somewhere around desperate. "I must speak with you about this... situation."Charlotte's phone appeared like a weapon, recording light blinking red. Eve's fingers tapped a silent rhythm against her champagne flute

"Kneel."Helena's command cut through the ballroom like a blade. The single word carried enough authority to make generals snap to attention.Ethan Langford, who'd spent his life believing money could buy respect, found himself facing something his millionaire cards couldn't touch – real power."I... what?" Ethan's face went from red to white faster than a traffic light."Your hearing seems impaired, Mr. Langford. Perhaps I should speak with someone more... responsive. Your father, perhaps?".The threat slithered through the air like a designer-clad cobra. Around them, phones appeared, everyone hungry for a piece of this latest King family drama, desperate to capture the moment Chicago's golden boy got his crown knocked sideways."Kneel." Helena stood, every inch the queen in her domain. "And apologize to my son."The crowd's collective gasp could've sucked the oxygen from the room. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through autumn leaves. "Is that really Leo King?" "The son

Mason watched Olivia crumble with the detached interest of a man studying a particularly fascinating car crash. The designer dress that had once made her feel invincible now looked like expensive wrapping paper after Christmas – beautiful, but ultimately disposable."You know what's funny?" His voice carried that particular South Side quiet that made smart people nervous. "All them followers, all them likes... and not one of them's gonna help you up off that floor."Charlotte's livestream count hit six figures. Comments flew past faster than bullets on a bad night:"THE QUEEN OF INSTA IS DEAD 👑💀""karma serving LOOKS tonight 💅""this tea is nuclear ☢️"Eve's laugh sparkled like broken glass. "Sugar, where I come from, we call this a biblical dropping of receipts.""Mr. Langford. Ms. Parker." Her voice cut through. "I believe your... performance has concluded. Though do remember – social media is forever. And Chicago..." Her smile promised winter in August. "Chicago never forgets."