Charles’s POV

“They thought shackles would humble me.”

I swirled the bourbon in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the penthouse lights.

The city below stretched wide and glittering, my empire waiting for its king. “Fools. Power doesn’t rust in a cell. It waits.”

Tatiana perched on the arm of my chair like some sleek predator, her dress clinging, her eyes sharper than diamonds.

“You’re welcome,” she purred, running a hand along the back of the chair. “Without me, ...