I remained in my chair, the heavy book in front of me forgotten, my mind replaying the exchange in a relentless loop. I had been sharp, decisive, and I had drawn a clear line in the sand. But in doing so, I had also made two powerful enemies in that room, and a third who was now, at best, an uncertain ally.
I let out a slow breath, the sound swallowed by the cavernous room. The scent of old leather and aging paper filled my senses, a smell of history and secrets that felt far too on the nose. My hands, resting on the polished wood of the table, felt cold. I was playing their game now, using their weapons—words, implications, strategic omissions. And for a moment, I had enjoyed it. That was the most terrifying part of all.
