“Mercedes… please. The Council made me—”
“Das Beste oder nichts.”
“No,” you reply. “He turned it into a message. I’m going to return it.” mercedes dantés
It was a classic betrayal. Laurent Vasseur, your father’s trusted maître d’armes , sold the family to the Corporate Council. The evidence was flawless: a ghost in the drive-by-wire system, a trail of credits leading to your personal ledger, and a grainy vid of your car, a custom 300 SL Gullwing, idling outside the Council’s treasury vault the night it bled liquid gold. “Mercedes… please