CHRIS' POV
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Chris stood by the wide glass window, staring out at the horizon where the dark skies seemed to fold into the gleam of a world he had shaped.
Darnova was stabilizing fast. Too fast.
He didn't trust perfection — especially when it came that easy.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock, followed by Amara entering, dressed in a sleek, midnight-toned gown. Regal. Unbothered. His equal in every sense.
He didn't waste time.
"Babe," he said, turning to her, eyes locked.
"Let's go to Darnova together."
Amara raised a brow, her arms folded under her chest.
"Why?"
Chris stepped closer, voice low but firm.
"Because I want them to know we don't send armies anymore… we walk in ourselves."
"Because I want them to see what loyalty looks like… when it's earned."
He paused, letting it sink.
"And because you need to see it with me — the people, the fear, the silence… I want us to feel it together. Then we'll decide who to reward, who to crush, and who to replace."
Amara's lips curled slowly into a smile.
"When do we leave?"
Chris glanced at the time.
"Wheels up in two hours."
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