The only problem?
When the last chair signaled assent, Jax placed his palms flat on the obsidian table. The scars of old disputes seemed to shift under his hands, as if the stone itself was acknowledging something new.
The council chamber had never felt smaller.
Kaelen’s face had gone pale. “That’s… that’s not possible. The Broker had no children.”
The room went still.
Outside, the city hummed with violence waiting to happen. But in this room, for the first time in twenty-three days, there was order.
And none of them even knew they were bleeding yet.
Across the table, Mira Vos of the Silver Syndicate steepled her fingers. Her augmetic eye whirred softly as it refocused on him. “You’ve been busy, Jax. I’ll give you that. The Docks, Sector 7, the old rail tunnels—all under your flag in less than a month. But official ?” She tilted her head. “That word requires more than just bodies and bullets.”