Amara's POV
They thought they had time.
They always think they have time.
I sat in the darkness of the war room, reviewing the intel coming in from all angles. Skylar and Christiana—both scheming, both believing they could pull the empire from under Chris's reign.
They underestimated me.
And they underestimated how close I was to the very people they thought were loyal to them.
I stared at the screen before me, flashing with images of Skylar's agency operations. Meetings behind closed doors. Secret deals being struck. And then... a face I hadn't expected to see.
Classic.
His name flashed across the screen in bold letters. He was at the center of a new alliance being forged between Skylar and Christiana—an alliance meant to chip away at Chris's power, piece by piece.
I had known Classic had reservations, but I hadn't expected him to jump so fully into their camp. The betrayal was sharp, but it wasn't unexpected. Classic was never truly loyal. Not to anyone but himself.
Still, I couldn't afford to lose focus. Not now.
Chris had placed the trust of this empire in my hands, and I wouldn't let it crumble over petty rivalries. If they wanted to see how far their treachery could go, I would show them.
I sent the orders. Precision, speed, silence.
The first move would be subtle. A message delivered with grace but enough force to make them understand their game had changed.
Then I leaned back in my chair, waiting. The pieces were in motion now.
The storm was coming.