The walls of the executive suite gleamed under ambient starlight from the floor-length windows, casting a faint silver glow across the obsidian-black table. The city below sparkled like a lazy constellation that had gotten drunk and dropped into a tech-powered metropolis. The silence between them was thick, not awkward, but... anticipatory.
Pyris sat with the practiced calm of a man who'd once stood in the jaws of godhood and laughed. But tonight wasn't about power drama. No dragons, no reincarnation twists. Just a company, a legacy, and the vampire woman across from him.
Esmeralda.
Her crimson eyes reflected the lights outside, slow-burning, observant. If elegance could bleed, it would look like her. She crossed one leg over the other, heels tapping in an absent rhythm. Those same eyes had once stared down her own brother to defend Pyris in the trial.
Now, she was taking the crown.
