When Lukas Martin finally left the boardroom that evening, his decision was already taking shape in his mind. Retirement did not mean retreat. It meant redirection. If governments feared his reach, if land and assets had their limits, then he would create something with no borders, no ceilings—an institution as vast and fluid as the currents of capital itself.
He returned to his estate that night, and for hours the halls glowed with light. Bella saw him pacing through the study, maps and papers scattered across the long oak table. Keem, who had grown accustomed to his restless brilliance, brought tea and left quietly. Noah, loyal and curious, lingered in the doorway until Lukas waved him away with a small smile. Some visions could only be shaped in silence.
By dawn, the vision was complete.
