Rex leaned back, silent, fingers curling around the edge of the desk.
"So no," he murmured. "Emma can't just buy her way out. Not without paying a price that might include everything—her career, her name, hell… maybe even her life."
"If she wants out of the system... she'll need more than money."
He clenched his jaw, staring at the dim glow of his screen.
It pissed him off. Not just because it was unfair—but because he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Not yet. No influence. No power. Barely any money. All he had were memories of a world that ran on similar rules, and the bitter understanding that in games like this, talent alone meant nothing. Power dictated the outcome.
He swiped over to the message app, his finger hovering over Emma's chat. There was so much he wanted to say—Hang in there. You're not alone. You'll win this fight.
But her last message was still marked unread.
Something twisted in his chest.
In the end, he locked the screen again.
