Father of Darkness. Shadow God. Devil of Devils. Ruler of the Underworld.
Don Mikhael Bet Noah had collected titles the way other men collected suits, and the terrifying part was that none of them were exaggerations. Even people who had never seen him could recognize him instantly, because the world around him always changed the moment he appeared.
The underground parking lot was no exception.
The air grew heavier, as if the concrete itself had decided to hold its breath, and the men in black suits surrounding him made the space feel like it belonged to a different country entirely.
A country where the law wore a fedora and smoked cigars.
Lisa approached slowly, keeping her posture steady, and lowered her head.
"Greetings, Sir."
Her father's face twisted in disgust, as if Lisa had served him rotten food.
"Disgusting," he muttered. "What's the point of formalities when it's just them? And this isn't even an official call."
"Still, it's outside."
"Hmph."
