Daemon’s laugh thundered through the nearly empty room, each echo a reminder of his overpowering presence. “I like you!” he roared, his voice dripping with approval that made Fiore’s skin crawl. He strode toward her, clapping her on the back with a force that almost knocked her off balance. “You’ve got guts!”
Fiore forced herself to stay rooted, her expression hardening into a frown. Guts? She couldn’t believe how misguided Daemon was. To him, strength was about power and force, but Fiore knew better. She knew that real strength came from something deeper, something more resolute. Fiore’s frown deepened. There’s no reasoning with this man, she thought. Daemon wasn’t someone who could be swayed by logic or appeal to morality. He was the embodiment of brute force, reveling in chaos.
“Now!”
