The urge to end him flashes in Leo’s eyes.
He rises slowly from his chair, and the movement alone commands the room’s attention. Four men tense instantly. The two bodyguards prepare themselves to fight, their hands twitching near their holsters. The Presidentand Home Minister, however, wear the look of cornered prey, already preparing themselves to flee.
“The decision has already been made, Mr. Caleo,” Leo says in very calm voice. “Either you work for us, or you won’t work at all.”
“You can’t force us to accept your proposal.”
“Only an idiot would think it was a proposal in the first place,” Leo replies evenly.
The bodyguards stiffen further, knuckles whitening, muscles twitching just seconds away from pulling their weapons. But before they can even draw, both collapse to the ground with twin holes in their foreheads.
Leo smirks, tilting his head. “Is it easier to make your decision now?”
The two old men exchange a horrified glance before turning toward me. I remain seated in complete ease, my posture relaxed. Their terror deepens, not because of the dead men at their feet, but because they never saw me fire.
The weapon, no larger than my palm, rests loosely in my grip, it’s small enough to disappear from their sight, but deadly enough to snatch their lives in silence.
“You… you smuggled a weapon inside,” the President stammers, voice trembling like brittle glass.
I shrug with indifference. “Your security check is cheap.”
Then my eyes shift lazily to the Home Minister. “Hands. On the table.”
He freezes mid-motion, caught reaching for the hidden alarm beneath. If he had pressed it, it would’ve only led to more blood outside this room, and a waste of our valuable time.
Leo knocks lightly on the table. “We don’t wish for bad blood. You will simply resign from your position, as you are clearly not a capable president. Any delay in this matter will not be appreciated.”
I rise from my chair, and together we walk out of the chamber. Neither of us speaks until we reach our car, our men closing in around us.
“Declan is still flying,” Leo mutters.
I nod.
Declan is the true power behind the Canadian government. The President draws his misplaced confidence from the illusion that Declan can protect him. But the reality is far less flattering.
Once the President resigns, we will place our man in power. And he will resign peacefully. Declan’s corpse will make sure of that.
Leo glances at me, a tilt forming at the corner of his mouth. He can read the anticipation in me, my hunger to hunt the Canadian beast, even on a face designed never to betray emotion.
A single twitch of muscle is enough for him to know exactly what I’m thinking. He is the only man alive who knows all of my secrets, including my most morallydeprived obsession. He knows the depth of it, the sickness of it, and the effect it has on me, just as I know about the bone-deep fixation that governs him.
In Matleon’s world, every emotion is carefully catalogued, weighed, and weaponized, each one arranged in perfect order for his use. All except for one feeling he has never been able to rationalize, no matter how hard he tries.
I take out my phone, checking on her. She’s lying on her bed with her phone in hand. I zoom in on her face. She’s chewing her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed a shade too obvious, proof she’s once again reading smut.
“It’s creepy,” Leo sighs.
“At least I’m admitting it.”
“I don’t stalk her twenty-four seven.” He says.
“Because you can’t.”
He glares.“I’m not obsessed with her,” he repeats the same lie he tells himself again and again.
I smirk. “Denial suits you.”
The intensity of his glare deepens.
