The conference room buzzed with quiet murmurs and the scratch of pens against paper. Around the long, polished table, the city's top-ranking public security officers leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screens displaying crime maps and surveillance footage. Among them sat Seraphine Draeke, her posture rigid, her violet eyes sharp, scanning every detail with utmost focus. She was the embodiment of discipline and authority — a storm, everyone was aware enough, none could cage.
Yet, a few seats remained conspicuously empty. Across from her, Officer Stanton, the inspector , Sera's senior and inspiration since she joined the force, shifted uneasily. "Drevorn Global Security was expected," he said low enough not to interrupt the flow of discussion but loud enough to draw attention.
Eyes flicked toward the empty side of the table, where Cassian Drevorn's delegation was meant to be. Frustration rippled through the room, a silent acknowledgment that the absence was more than a simple delay. Sera was the first one to cut through the thick air, with her equally cold comment, " Busy in corporate things, maybe? You see money is more important than justice, to some."
The discussion continued, voices rising in intensity as strategies were proposed, dissected, and challenged. Sera's hands tightened into fists on the table, each word weighed carefully, every argument sharpened by the urgency of their task. Stanton was about to speak, " But—"
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door swung open with a thunderous bang, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade.
Cassian Drevorn entered, tall and unyielding, his shirt buttons undone on the top, blazer hanging by the tip of his fingers of left hand backwards over his shoulder, tie loose. Sleeves rolled up to expose his tanned forearms, right palm in the pocket. His hair messy, falling over his eyes and up to his back collar, a lit cigarette tucked in his smirking lips. He was flanked by two allies, one man and another a woman, whose eyes swept the room with cold calculation. Their arrival sucked the air out of the room, every head turning instantly to the new presence.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Cassian's voice was smooth, almost mocking, as he took slow, deliberate steps toward the vacant seats, taking a lazy drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke over the area. "Some of us prefer to make an —"
Seraphine's jaw clenched, her stare icy and unwavering, she cut in. " Mr. Drevorn, may I remind you, this meeting is not a social event." The officers looked at her and nodded approvingly.
A slow, sardonic smile tugged at the corner of Cassian's mouth. "Nor is it a place for empty speeches," he replied, voice low but sharp enough to cut through the room's fragile calm. He then snorted sharply before speaking again, "But since we couldn't help them, I guess we were successful enough to avoid them. Now, let's get straight to the business." He smirked