You saved me… because I was necessary."
The man's voice was hoarse, still raw from weeks of surgeries and sedation. His eyes lifted to the figure seated across from him, sharp and unreadable even in the sterile hospital light.
Carl Miller leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed neatly over the other, and regarded him with calm precision. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he tapped the armrest, once, twice, as though measuring the weight of every word before setting it free.
"Necessary for what?" the man pressed.
Carl's gaze cut through him like glass. "Because you have what belongs to me."
The man frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think we've ever met before. And you don't exactly look like the type who runs in my kind of business…"
Carl's brows drew together, the faintest crack in his otherwise composed expression. He spoke evenly, but there was venom threaded through every syllable.
