Mr. Davis POV
In conflict, the most prominent voices are seldom those in power.
I had long ago perfected the skill of remaining silent. The type of quiet that observes empires ascend and descend, lingers in conference rooms with fingers interlaced, and ultimately seals agreements that entomb monarchs.
And this evening, the quiet in my office spoke volumes.
The door let out a faint creak as I looked at the disorganized documents on my desk—encrypted files, intercepted communications, and Charles’s surveillance drive, newly transferred to my private server. A glass of old whiskey rested idle at my side. Even that seemed overly indulgent this evening.
Kara. Zach. Currently Charles.
Things were progressing quicker than I preferred.
I pressed the screen once more, zooming in on the
