Chapter 489: Lines in the Sand

Classic's POV

I clenched my jaw, staring down at the document in my hand—the one that confirmed Christiana had overruled me.

I had made my decision. I had set the course. And yet, she had stepped in like my rule was nothing more than a suggestion.

Slowly, I turned to Ethan.

"Who gave her the authority to do such a thing?" My voice was calm, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

Ethan didn't flinch. He met my gaze with that same unreadable expression he always wore when things got interesting.

"She took it," he said simply.

Christiana chuckled, swirling her wine. "Power isn't given, dear brother. It's taken."

I exhaled through my nose, forcing down my irritation. My fingers drummed against the table as I spoke, my voice sharper this time.

"I want my order to stand."

The amusement in Christiana's eyes didn't fade. "Then enforce it."

I stared at her, my grip tightening on the paper.

This was a challenge. A test of who truly ruled.

I turned my gaze to Chris, who still stood by the window, arms crossed, watching like this was a performance he had seen before.

I knew exactly what he was doing.

He wouldn't interfere. Wouldn't correct Christiana or back me up.

Because this was part of the test.

I wasn't going to ask for his support.

I would take it myself.

I stepped closer to Christiana, my voice lower now, more dangerous.

"You think this is a game? That you can maneuver around me like a strategist moving pieces on a board?"

Her smirk didn't waver. "That's exactly what this is, Classic. A game of power. And right now, I'm winning."

"No," I said, cold and firm. "You're not."

I turned to Ethan.

"I want my original order carried out—immediately. Funding to the resistant territories is cut. No compromises. No adjustments."

Ethan studied me for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Understood."

Christiana's smirk faded just slightly.

I turned back to her. "You're not The Dictator here, Christiana. Not when it comes to my rule. You want a war of power? Fine. But don't forget who was chosen to take this throne. It wasn't you."

The tension in the room thickened. Christiana's eyes darkened, and for the first time, the amusement in her gaze flickered into something else.

Chris finally pushed off the window, stepping toward us. His voice was calm but carried weight.

"This is interesting."

He glanced at Christiana, then at me.

"Two rulers. Two strategies. But only one throne."

Then he smirked slightly.

"Let's see which one of you holds it by the end of the year."