The sidewalk café hummed with the usual indifferent rhythm of the metropolis—silverware clinked, espresso machines hissed, and patrons guarded their plates like fortunes. But at the small table near the curb, time seemed to grind to a violent, absolute halt.

"You always were too smart for your own good, Vance," Richard sneered. "But it doesn't matter what's on that card. Because right now, federal agents—acting on an anonymous tip filed by your corporate compliance department—are raiding your estate with warrants for illegal weapons possession."

Vance smirked, looking toward the driveway as the wail of police sirens echoed down the private lane.

"You think the police can touch me, Richard?" Vance asked calmly.

"They're going to lock you away, and the board will vote to dissolve your assets by sunrise," Richard snapped before abruptly disconnecting the call.

Sirens screamed louder as three police cruisers pulled up to the shattered front entrance. Captain Miller of the NYPD stepped through the ruined doors, flanked by officers.

"Mr. Vance, we received an emergency report regarding active firearms," Captain Miller announced firmly.

Vance didn't move. Instead, he tapped his phone screen twice, projecting a live video feed onto the large smart-screen television in the foyer. The screen displayed the recorded conference call audio—capturing Richard and Arthur's full confessions.