"I got to say, Lucrezia, this is the best plan you could have ever had!"
"But, of course, darling. I trust you did your part as well."
"The rut inducer worked wonders. He was out of it."
"Good. Now, dear Caleb, shall we discuss your payment?"
"Thank you, ma'am, for everything. After what Sanchez did at the auction, my family suffered a lot. If it weren't for you, we would have gone bankrupt."
I already knew all this theatre from both of them, all this over-performed gratitude and fake tears were nothing but an act.
Yet the world kept spinning around my finger just like I wanted.
Although I did not expect the Prime Minister's brat to be such a special specimen, my plan went smoothly.
I had Caleb Plutus, the addict whose reputation Emiliano destroyed at the auction party, plant a grenade in the middle of that punk's apartment.
Nobody could see it coming. Not even him.
Because nobody would dare to have Sanchez as their enemy. Nobody in their right mind.
