Chapter 3 - Cracks in the FoundationJudge Davies’s sharp eyes snapped from Roman to his newly minted son-in-law. The aristocratic warmth vanished from the judge’s face, replaced by the cold, calculating glare of a man whose background check on his daughter's fiancé had clearly missed a few crucial pages.
"Caleb," Judge Davies said quietly, his tone dropping several degrees. "What is Mr. Costa talking about?"
"Nothing, sir—Judge Davies," Caleb stammered, sweating profusely despite the room's air conditioning. "He’s just trying to cause trouble. You know how Roman Costa operates. He twists things, he spreads rumors—"
"I don't deal in rumors, Reynolds," Roman interrupted, pulling a sleek titanium cardholder from his breast pocket. He didn't open it, just tapped it against his thumb. "I deal in collateral. When you skipped town three weeks ago, you didn't just leave Sadi with the lease. You signed over the deed of your primary residence to a shell company tied to the Continental to cover your secondary gaming lines. Khloe, darling, your wedding venue is technically sitting on land leased by one of my holding companies."
The gasps were audible this time. Khloe staggered back a step, looking at Caleb with absolute horror. "Caleb? Is that true? You told me you owned everything free and clear! You said your family's trust fund covered it!"
"It was supposed to!" Caleb hissed, completely losing his composure in front of three hundred elite witnesses. He glared at me with pure venom. "This is her fault! She's been digging into things that don't concern her, feeding lies to—"
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"I haven't said a word to him about your property, Caleb," I interrupted, my voice ringing clear across the ballroom. For the first time all night, I stepped out from the shadow of Roman’s shoulder and looked Caleb dead in the eye. "You always thought you were the smartest man in the room, didn't you? You thought you could throw me away like trash, stick me with your debts, and buy a new life with a judge's daughter. But you forgot one simple rule of the world we live in: when you gamble with dangerous men, the house always collects."
Judge Davies raised a hand, cutting off Caleb’s frantic sputtering. The judge looked old, tired, and furiously embarrassed. "This reception is concluded," he announced to the room, his voice booming through the microphone system. "Thank you all for coming. Please retrieve your coats."
