Asher leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but cutting through the tense silence.
“I want your cotton land, Ambrose. The ones by the river, almost at the outskirt of Drakmont You know, the most productive in all of Drakmont and the neighboring cities.”
The words hit Ambrose like a slap. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat.
“The… the cotton land?” he stammered, his voice trembling.
Asher’s expression didn’t change.
“That’s right,” he said, his tone almost bored. “The land that brings you wealth, power, influence. I’ll take them.”
Ambrose’s face twisted with disbelief and fury. He took a shaky step forward, his voice rising.
“You can’t be serious! That land, they’re my life! Without them—”
“Without them, you’ll be nothing,” Asher interrupted, his voice sharp a
