The meeting room smelled of wood. I kept my posture beside Gusa, feeling the weight of every gaze on the back of my neck.
It had been just over five months since I became the leader.
It was recent. The reputation of an irrational monster was still visible, stuck to my skin like a second shadow.
All the weight and responsibility fell on my shoulders. My people were by my side, of course, but these guys in this room didn't even really know me.
The last association meeting had been closed, for veteran members only. Today's was open to anyone. It happened at most once a year, in a discreet location.
The entire association expected me to protect them, to provide the money, to use legal contacts to gain ground. In exchange, they paid, they kept my record clean. In exchange, Goden ruled.
But they still thought I was just my father's shadow, or a brat who only knew how to kill. I would show them that I would be the most feared, both in methods of torture and in strategy.
