The Curator. The name was like a whisper, a legend, but it was the first real target we had. Finding a man without a name or a face seemed impossible.
"A man who keeps a ledger of secrets for a ghost organization isn't going to have a social security number," Elias said dryly.
For days, we hit dead ends. Nyx searched databases for any mention of the name, while Elias reached out through his network. Nothing. It was as if the man didn't exist.
I took a different route. I remembered Kenan Osman's words about a record of the debts the world owed them. This wasn't just money; it was about influence, power, and history. What kind of person would be trusted with something like that?
"He's not an accountant or a thug," I said one night in the war room. "He's a historian. A guardian of their legacy. He wouldn't care about temporary things like the stock market. He'd focus on things that last. Things with a story."
"Art," Dante replied, locking his eyes onto mine. "Antiquities."
The idea fell into place. The black-market art world fit the Syndicate perfectly. It was steeped in anonymity, old money, and secrets—a realm of ghosts and shadows.
Nyx and I spent the next twenty-four hours digging into a new set of records: details from the world's most exclusive and hidden art auctions. We compared the dates of major anonymous purchases with the dates of the Syndicate's attacks. We found a pattern. Just before a CEO was eliminated, a priceless artifact linked to that CEO's region or culture would be bought at auction by the same anonymous buyer.
It was a sick, predatory ritual. They weren't just taking companies; they were claiming a piece of their victims' histories—a trophy for their collection. The Curator was a collector.
"We can't find him," Dante said, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. "So we'll make him come to us."
His plan was bold. He contacted the most respected—and discreet—auction house in Geneva. He told them that a long-lost masterpiece from his family's collection, a small but priceless Renaissance sculpture rumored to have been looted during the war, had been "miraculously recovered." This piece was known as 'The Mourning Prince,' a sculpture so rare and with such a dark history that its rediscovery would stir the art world.
"The Curator has a trophy from nearly every family the Syndicate has destroyed," Dante explained to the team, his eyes shining with excitement. "But he doesn't have one from mine. He won't be able to resist completing the set."
The trap was set. We were going to host a party and invite the devil to be the guest of honor.