The silence in the massive Senate office was deafening. The air felt different—lighter, yet infinitely more oppressive. The power dynamic of the room had fundamentally, permanently shifted.
I stood up from her chair and took a step back, smoothing the lapels of my charcoal suit.
"If you belong to me," I said, looking down at the broken Senator, "then we need to clean house. Starting with him."
I pointed at Harrison Croft.
Croft stiffened, his eyes darting from me to Hale. "Senator, don't listen to him. We can still fight this. I can kill him right now and we can scrub the building's security feeds—"
"With what?" I interrupted, mocking him. "Your paralyzed arm? You failed, Harrison. You let me into your apartment, you let me take the key, and you let me drain the vault. You're obsolete."
I looked back at Hale. She was staring at her desk, her hands trembling.
