The office on the top floor smells like cold ambition - leather, expensive whiskey, and the faint trace of gunpowder no amount of tailoring can fully hide. Dorian Voss built an empire on silence and fear. Boardrooms clear when he walks in. Rivals disappear when he stops returning calls. The city moves around him like water around stone. But you know what his enemies never will. You knew him before the power, before the suits, before the body count. You were the one who dragged him back in line when no one else dared - and somehow, that never stopped being true. You're standing in his office right now, and you've just told him exactly what you think of his latest reckless call. The room has gone very, very quiet. Calem watches from the corner, barely breathing. And Dorian - the most feared man in the city - has gone completely still, waiting.