A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped into the room, his hair streaked with shades of gray. His chiseled features exuded authority, and though he looked to be in his early forties, there was a sharpness in his eyes that made him seem even more formidable.
A wide smile spread across his face as he spotted Eric.
"Well, well... look who it is," he said, lowering himself into one of the plush chairs and gesturing for us to sit.
Jacob stood directly behind him, while two other guards positioned themselves by each door, their presence a silent reminder of the power dynamics in the room.
"Eric," Mr. Savage began, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he settled in. "I thought we settled this case out of court last ti. So, what’s going on now?"
Eric remained composed, sitting up straighter as he t Savage’s gaze.
"Indeed, the case was settled," he said. "But only because you chose to bribe both the judge and the victim." He paused before adding, "This, however, is an entirely different matter."
Mr. Savage exhaled slowly, then turned to Jacob. "Do we have any outstanding cases?"
Jacob shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing on record."
A flicker of sothing crossed Savage’s face. Confusion? No—sothing deeper.
"Well, I’m a busy man, Eric," he said, his tone shifting to impatience. "So get to the point."
Eric extended his hand toward . "Phone," he ordered.
My hands trembled as I fumbled into my pocket, retrieving my phone with a sense of urgency. I quickly unlocked it, found the file, and handed it to Eric.
"This is an entirely new case," Eric stated, shifting as if to stand.
One of the guards imdiately tensed, taking a step forward. Eric halted, raising a hand in a gesture of reassurance, then subtly motioned toward the phone and Mr. Savage.
Savage lifted a hand, signaling the guard to stand down, but the man ignored him, closing the distance between us. My heart pounded so loudly that, in the silence of the room, it felt like anyone paying attention could hear it.
The guard snatched the phone from Eric’s grasp and passed it to Mr. Savage.
Savage’s eyes flickered to the screen as he tapped play. The mont the video began, his expression changed. His face, once relaxed and amused, tightened. His eyes widened—not with anger, but with genuine shock.
No. He wasn’t just surprised. He was rattled.
His gaze lifted from the phone to Eric, then to . The confident smirk had vanished, replaced by sothing else.
It wasn’t fear.
It was sothing more primal.
Survival.
"What is this?" he demanded, his sharp eyes locking onto .
I parted my lips to speak, but then I rembered Eric’s warning—don’t engage.
Instead, I turned to Eric, raising an eyebrow in silent question.
Eric held Mr. Savage’s gaze, unbothered by the shift in the room’s atmosphere. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms.
"That’s the question you should be asking yourself, Mr. Savage," he said coolly. "Or do you not recognize what’s on that screen?"
Mr. Savage’s fingers tightened around the phone. He exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching.
Jacob, sensing the shift in his employer’s deanor, stepped forward. "Sir, I can—"
A sharp glance from Savage cut him off.
The silence in the room was thick. My heartbeat had yet to settle, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickling down my back.
Mr. Savage tapped the phone screen, replaying the video. This ti, he watched it with slow, deliberate focus.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice lower now, controlled but laced with tension.
Eric didn’t answer imdiately. He let the weight of the mont linger before responding.
"Does it matter?"
Mr. Savage’s eyes flicked up from the phone. "It does to ."
Eric smirked. "Good. That ans you know it’s real."
Savage was silent.
Then, without breaking eye contact with Eric, he placed the phone face down on the table. The move was subtle, but I noticed the way his fingers curled slightly, as if resisting the urge to grip it tighter.
Jacob’s gaze darted between the two n, waiting for a cue. The guards at the door remained motionless, but their presence felt heavier, like coiled springs ready to snap.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. I had no idea what would happen next, but one thing was certain—Mr. Savage wasn’t smiling anymore.
Savage sighed, running a hand down his face before leaning forward. "Alright, what do you want?" he asked, his tone laced with impatience.
Eric took his ti, letting the silence stretch before finally speaking. "One million dollars."
My eyes widened in shock. One million what? I almost blurted out but managed to hold my tongue.
Savage threw his head back and let out a sharp, maniacal laugh.
But Eric remained perfectly calm, unfazed by the outburst.
Mr. Savage continued his deep, guttural laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. The sound echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls like a cruel joke.
"You’re kidding, right?" he said, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. "One million dollars? Eric, co on. Who the hell do you think you are?"
His laughter faded, but the amusent in his eyes remained, like he was waiting for Eric to take it back—to say it was all just a bluff.
Eric, however, didn’t flinch. He remained seated, calm as ever, fingers lightly drumming on the armrest of his chair.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t as composed. My mouth had nearly fallen open. One million? I wanted to ask if he had lost his mind, but I bit my tongue.
The room fell silent again, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning.
Eric finally leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression was unreadable, but there was a weight behind his gaze.
"You heard ," he said simply. "One million dollars."
Savage’s expression darkened. His fingers tapped against the phone still resting on the table, as if considering his next move.
"And if I don’t pay?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Eric’s smirk returned, though his eyes remained sharp. "Think about what kind of damage this would do your election hopes."
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