"You've said everything you want, Mooney. Now it's my turn to talk. And your turn to listen."
Archibald's fingers stopped tapping. Olivia's brows lifted ever so slightly, her breath caught. No one had ever spoken to Archibald like that— not in this city or the entire state.
The guards looked at each other uneasily, Archibald's narrowed their eyes in defense but refrained from any action unless told otherwise by Archibald himself.
At this point, Darren's posture was straight, unyielding. His eyes were locked on Archibald's and no one else while his face was stern and ruthless.
"Let's start with what I don't want. I don't want a leash dressed up as a crown. A disguise of power. A facade of authority. What you're offering to me right this moment is autonomy wrapped in velvet chains, Mr. Mooney, and you call that a partnership."
