The fighters, the directors, the senior partners, the accountants, the producers - all of them walking out of the buildings Magnus owned to follow the woman who'd given those buildings to him.
She'd handed him an empire of empty rooms.
"Sir." Harlan hadn't left. He was scrolling his tablet like a man reading his own autopsy results. "There's one more thing. I've been cross-referencing the financial commitments signed under the co-leader's authority over the past four years. The accounting team flagged several long-term obligations."
Magnus's fingers went still.
"A seven-year infrastructure development agreement with Moran and Castellan for facility upgrades across all guild-operated locations. Quarterly payment schedule. Three billion dollars total commitment, eleven installments remaining."
The number sat in the air.
