Jonathan's POV
Calvert's scheme bordered on complete madness. The kind of twisted, power-hungry fantasy that only a lunatic would dare attempt to bring into reality. Yet here I was, forced to become his willing accomplice because Savannah bore my brother's mark.
The bitter irony wasn't lost on me. I had to dirty my hands with his deranged plot just to have a chance at saving my wife.
The path ahead promised nothing but blood and betrayal.
"It's finished," I reported, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
"Excellent. The ceremony marks our first move."
"I'll sign whatever contract you want for the next phase, but I need to see Savannah first."
Calvert's laughter filled the room like poison gas. It carried that particular brand of arrogance that wealthy men wore like expensive cologne, looking down on anyone they deemed beneath their station. Perhaps it satisfied some deep-seated need to compensate for their pathetic god complexes by watching others squirm.
