Amara's POV

The cold steel of the gun felt like an extension of his will, a silent, unblinking threat. I stared at the man who held it, the most powerful and ruthless politician in the country, and a thousand thoughts raced through my head. I had to get out of this. I had to survive. I couldn't provoke him, not with a gun pointed at my head, but I couldn't give in either.

A slow smile spread across my face. I tilted my head to the side, a look of amused pity on my face.

"You're wrong, ...