Chris's POV
I felt it.
A shift.
Not in the halls. Not in the press. But in the air around me—like the empire itself was holding its breath.
Too many eyes on me. Too many tongues wagging. But something deeper… something hidden was working in my favor, quietly pulling strings behind the curtain.
It started with intel—subtle things.
A leak from Christiana's circle got intercepted before it reached the press.
An ambush planned on Skylar's new agency building was neutralized before it even left its planning phase.
Even an internal mole in Amara's faction suddenly vanished—disappeared without a trace.
It wasn't coincidence.
Someone was protecting me.
Not loudly. Not boldly. But with precise intention.
I sat alone in my private study, lights low, shadows thick. My hand rested on the old Blackwood seal carved into my desk—passed down from father to son for generations. Power wasn't just about commanding armies. Sometimes it was about recognizing moves made in silence.
"Come out," I said to the empty room.
Nothing.
"I know you're working for me. I don't know who you are yet… but I will."
The door creaked slightly, as if stirred by the wind—but no one entered.
And then I saw it.
A folded piece of parchment left on my seat.
No one uses paper anymore—except those who want to be taken seriously.
I opened it.
"We are with you. In silence. Let them underestimate you. We won't."
No signature.
But I smiled.
It wasn't fear I felt anymore.
It was certainty.
Someone was watching my back—and whoever it was, they were close.
Maybe closer than I dared imagine.