The door opened.
The sound outside hit first: flashes, polite shouting, and the hum of drones overhead, all swallowed by the velvet ropes and security lines. Elias stepped out into the chaos with the calm of someone who had done this before and hated every second of it.
Victor followed a breath behind, hand at the small of his back with his usual possessiveness. A silent shield wrapped in blood-red silk and black obsidian trim.
Ashwin closed the car door with more care than necessary. No creak, no thud. Just a quiet click, like a promise sealed.
The cameras surged forward as if smelling the story.
"Clarke–Numen!"
"Victor! Elias! Can we get one facing left… thank you!"
"Elias, how far along are you now?"
"Is it true you rejected the central board's invitation to join the finance council?"
"What does the color mean? Is it mourning or marketing?"
Elias ignored them all.
