Ethan exhaled sharply, relief flashing in his eyes before it was buried beneath his usual steel demeanor.
"You were out for a while," he said, leaning forward. "Thought you finally decided to stay dead."
Chris let out a weak chuckle, though it turned into a rough cough. Even now, barely clinging to consciousness, he was still Chris Blackwood—still in control.
Cole crossed his arms, watching him carefully. "We were ready to tear this city apart if you didn't wake up."
Chris's smirk didn't fade. "Good." His voice was hoarse, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "Because that's exactly what we're going to do."
Ethan's gaze darkened. "We need to know who pulled the trigger."
Chris let out a slow breath. His body was heavy, exhausted, but his mind? Sharper than ever.
"Not Ava," he muttered.
Cole raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Chris's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "She's a snake, but she doesn't take shots she can't control. This wasn't her style."
Ethan nodded slowly. "Then that means it was someone higher up. Someone inside."
Silence filled the room. They all knew what that meant.
Chris shifted slightly, wincing as pain lanced through his body. He didn't care.
"What's the public saying?" he asked.
Ethan exchanged a glance with Cole. "Nothing yet. We kept it locked down. As far as the world knows, you're still in charge."
Chris exhaled. "Good. Let's keep it that way."
Cole tilted his head. "You just survived an assassination attempt. Maybe rest for a second?"
Chris's expression hardened. "No." He forced himself to sit up, ignoring the way his body protested. "We find out who did this. We make an example out of them."
His voice dropped lower.
"And then we remind the world who owns this country."