Prestor was flung onto a couch just outside the room by those guards who grabbed and dragged him outside the office of the Patriarch of the family. Fortunately, he landed squarely on a cushion, which softened the impact and spared him any pain.
It was at that moment, sprawled on the seat, that Prestor had a realization. His uncle's cryptic question from earlier suddenly clicked. "Wait a damn second," he muttered, eyes widening as he sat upright. "So that's what he meant…"
The Baron owned the entire City. Everyone else? They were merely tenants. Prestor and his family had been living in a place ruled by someone else's whims. The Zorthars had failed to pay the required taxes, and worse, they had muscled in on multiple businesses. Now, the Baron was specifically cracking down on those very businesses, which meant there were limits to how directly he could go after the Zorthars themselves, so he was going after their outer shell first.