The Tables Turn

The sun sank below the Avalon skyline, casting the Levine family yacht in a golden glow. Strings of lights twinkled to life along the gleaming white rails as the vessel glided across the harbor. On the upper deck, caterers scrambled to arrange trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne flutes just so, ensuring every detail was perfect for the celebration about to unfold.

Right on schedule, the city's elite began arriving in staggered fashion, the gangplank fluttering under the weight of their footsteps. They represented the top titans of industry - real estate moguls, tech tycoons, politicians and bankers - all flocking aboard the lavish yacht to pay their respects to the guest of honor.

The man in question stood gazing out at the water, hands folded behind his back. Tristan cut a striking figure in his dark tuxedo, tall and lanky with chiseled features any ancient warrior god would envy. But his blue eyes glinted with a cunning that heralded danger to friend and foe alike.

"Quite the reve