Arthur moved with an effortless yet commanding presence, his hands lazily tucked into his pockets as he descended the grand staircase of the auditorium.
Each step echoed with quiet authority, his strides unhurried yet powerful, as if the world itself adjusted to his pace.
Outside, the sleek black car awaited him, its door already open in silent deference.
Without breaking his stride, he slid into the luxurious leather interior, and the door was swiftly shut behind him with a firm click, sealing him inside the cocoon of his own thoughts.
Leaning back against the cool leather, Arthur exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the city lights flickering beyond the tinted windows.
His mind, however, was elsewhere—on the pressing matter at hand.
Tryson. The name alone tightened something in his chest.
That man wouldn't stop. Not tonight. Not ever.
Arthur knew he had to act quickly. If he hesitated for even a moment, he would lose the upper hand, and losing was never an option.
