Page 83

"This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Sinclair," Anthony says, his voice cultured, precise, revealing nothing of his thoughts. "When we received your request for a formal audience, we were... intrigued."

"I don't believe in allowing misunderstandings to fester," I reply, meeting his gaze directly. "I understand there are questions regarding my Possession."

Preston leans forward slightly, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Questions is perhaps too gentle a term. We've reviewed the footage from the Hunt. Your... acquisition... was not wearing an anklet."

"She was not a sanctioned participant," Edgar adds, his voice rough with age and judgment. "And yet you not only claimed her, but failed to report the breach of protocol."

I remain standing, deliberately maintaining the height advantage. "If I may clarify the situation."

Anthony gestures with elegant fingers. "Please do."

"The protocols you reference apply specifically to sanctioned Pieces within the Hunt," I begin, my voice level and confident. "However, as Luna Laurent entered using her sister's invitation, she technically entered as Genevieve Laurent—who was, in fact, a sanctioned participant."

Preston's eyebrow lifts slightly. "An interesting distinction."

"Furthermore," I continue, "the Club bylaws, Section 7, Paragraph 3, specifically state that during a Hunt, any unclaimed individual within the boundaries becomes fair game. She crossed the threshold willingly, entered the grounds willingly, and was claimed willingly."

"You're splitting hairs, Sinclair," Edgar growls.

"I'm adhering to the letter of our laws," I correct him. "Just as the Collectors have always done."

This earns me a thin smile from Anthony. "Even if we were to accept this... creative interpretation... it doesn't address the core issue. She was not properly vetted. She has no training, nobackground check, no understanding of our rules or traditions. She represents a security risk."

"Which is why you wish to have her removed and sequestered," I state flatly. "To ensure her silence."

"For her own protection," Preston adds smoothly. "And the protection of our membership."

I let silence hang for a moment, then play my next card. "I've ensured her silence already. She's currently secured at my private estate upstate. No contact with the outside world, no means of communication, no opportunity to compromise the Club's security."

Edgar scoffs. "And we're simply meant to take your word for this? Allow an unprecedented exception to our protocols because Beckett Sinclair says so?"

I reach into my jacket, noting how they all tense slightly, and remove a small black device. I place it on the table between us.

"This contains complete surveillance access to the property. You can monitor her at any time, verify her continued isolation, confirm my claim." I pause, letting the offer sink in. "I take full responsibility for her compliance and discretion."

What they don't know is that the security footage they're seeing is on a randomized loop, which I can turn off remotely or alter at any time. Because there's no way I would actually hand over security footage of Luna in my own estate.

Anthony studies me for a long moment, something calculating in his gaze. "And what do you gain from this arrangement, Mr. Sinclair? Why not simply relinquish her to our care?"

"Because she's mine," I say simply. "I claimed her. I collared her. And I do not surrender what belongs to me."

The three men exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them.

"We are aware of your particular expertise in cybersecurity," Preston says carefully. "Talents that might prove... valuable to certain interests of the Club."

I hold his gaze steadily. "I'm always open to mutually beneficial arrangements," I reply, measuring each word. "Provided, of course, that the Club formally acknowledges my claim on Luna Laurent as my legitimate Possession and removes any challenges to her status."

"You presume to bargain with the Collectors?" Edgar's voice rises indignantly.

"I presume to offer a solution that benefits all parties," I counter, keeping my tone respectful but firm. "The Club gains access to specialized skills few can provide. I retain what is rightfully mine. And Luna remains secure, her silence guaranteed."

Anthony leans back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the polished wood. "Your reputation for... creative problem-solving... was not exaggerated, Mr. Sinclair."

"I prefer efficiency to conflict," I reply.

"Admirable," Preston murmurs, though the gleam in his eye suggests he's not entirely convinced.

"There may be certain matters requiring your particular expertise," Anthony adds, his tone deliberately casual. "Information acquisition that would be... difficult for others to facilitate."