Oliver was the first to bring it up once the quiet stretched too long. "That guy downstairs… Victor, right? He looked like he owned the damn place. He had so much security and guards and stuff. I think I have seen him renting this place like every month."
Xavier leaned back in the couch, one leg crossed over the other, still wearing that half-lidded look that gave away nothing. "So what's his deal? Some bigshot with actual pull, or just another rich mofo throwing cash to look important?"
Angel didn't turn to face him, but her voice carried steady from her desk. "I did some digging a while back. Victor's not a politician or corp head if that's what you're asking. He's more of a… dealer, scavenger, collector type. He can get you pretty much anything from anywhere in the universe—restricted tech, rare relics, even stolen shit—as long as you're willing to pay the right price."
Xavier's brows lifted. "So basically, a black-market Santa Claus."
