Three days after the politicians left his mansion, Damian received another visitor. Unlike the others, Patrick Beaumont arrived alone.
Just an old man carrying a leather briefcase.
The afternoon sun reflected against the glass walls of Damian's Chicago residence as Loth escorted the chairman through the mansion. Patrick walked calmly, occasionally glancing around at the artwork and architecture, but unlike most visitors he showed no visible awe.
Power recognized power. The old man understood that immediately.
By the time he entered the study, Damian was already seated near the massive window overlooking his garden. A cigar rested between his fingers while several files floated around him lazily before settling onto the desk.
Patrick stopped for a moment.
Even after hearing the rumors, seeing Judge Damian Hill in person still felt strange. The young man carried himself differently now.
There was something unsettling about him.
"Chairman Beaumont." Damian nodded politely.
