"V–Valentine." Josiah's eyes became cold the instant they fixed on the Necromancer. "What business do you have here? In fact—how did you get—"
"None of your business, Mr President." Valentine kicked off the armrest, ignoring the way the six suited men shifted with unease. His head tilted as he took two steps forward. "Just like Guide Ambrose's affairs aren't any of your business as well."
Ambrose felt like he'd just been ripped out of a black hole. His heart beat like war drums as sweat drenched basically every part of his body.
Josiah's Sovereign Tongue was so close to getting him to spill. Even with Valentine's Necrotic Mark strengthening his soul.
If the Necromancer had even been two seconds late… fuck!
'This isn't fucking fair.' His fists clenched as he discreetly glared at the Federation President. 'Not one bit. Just because he's the head of our country's Federation means he has the right to fuck with my head and rip out my secrets?'
