I sat completely still. I looked at the heavy brass loupe sitting perfectly on my pristine desk. The legacy I had earned through blood, sweat, and absolute tears was a complete lie.

I didn’t yell. I didn’t throw my heavy brass tools. My jaw locked so incredibly tight I could clearly taste thick, metallic blood in my mouth.

I simply pulled out my incredibly thick federal authentication folder.

Because Robert completely forgot one vital, highly fatal detail in his absolute, unchecked greed.

I didn’t actually just study normal civilian hobbies. Because I am literally the Senior Authenticator for Sotheby’s International, I officially registered every single serial number on the global stolen art registry weeks ago. Robert had explicitly submitted the $2 million collection to a massive international auction, completely unaware that rare vintage timepieces of that caliber explicitly and legally require my personal, physical signature to clear customs and be sold. And exactly one hour prior, I had explicitly finalized the massive legal injunction to permanently freeze the auction and flag him for federal grand larceny.

I’ve never dialed a federal art theft hotline so incredibly fast in my entire life.

Standing perfectly upright in the living room, I officially dropped my thick, federally stamped Sotheby’s authentication block directly onto his expensive iPad screen just as the auction went live.

“Yes, I absolutely need to execute a massive federal grand larceny arrest,” I softly told the dispatch, my voice perfectly calm and completely steady. “A hostile seller has explicitly and illegally attempted to fence $2 million in stolen historical artifacts.”

Exactly 10 minutes later, two completely stern FBI agents aggressively walked into the large custom living room, their official badges shining brightly.

“What did you just do?!” Robert aggressively screamed, his face turning completely pale white as heavily armed officers immediately and violently surrounded his carefully curated arrogant persona.