The room was tense, filled with sharp voices and sharper glances. The dons sat around the table, debating the best way to deal with a politician who had been blocking a crucial import deal.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, cool and composed, letting them argue. Claire sat to his right, her body there but her mind far away.
Her thoughts raced as she stared at the men talking.
'Kill Lucas Benetti.'
The demand whispered in her mind like a cruel joke. How could she? How should she? She felt like she was drowning, each breath harder to take.
"Claire," Lucas's voice cut through the noise, sharp and direct. Her head snapped up.
"Yes?" she asked, forcing her face into something that looked like focus.
"What do you think?" he asked. There was a hint of something in his eyes—was it suspicion? Or was it her thoughts making her paranoid?
She cleared her throat, buying time. "I think… blackmailing him is the smartest move," she said, her voice steady enough to convince the table.
