From Trash to Titan
Maxwell said, his voice carrying the quiet, absolute authority of a man who owned the room, "they are welcome to run the card.”
Tristan stared at the black card sitting on the table. His mind scrambled. For a split second, genuine shock hit him.
It was common knowledge in Tristan's circle what a black card actually meant. It wasn't just a normal credit card. It was a ghost. Invite-only, zero spending limit, reserved for the kind of wealth that moved markets, not just bought sports cars. Only billionaires carried them.
But then, logic clawed its way back into Tristan's panicked mind.