I studied Angela as she ate, her movements graceful, her expression almost warm. But I knew better. This wasn't kindness—it was calculation. Every gesture, every word, was a piece of a puzzle I hadn't yet solved. Why was she treating me like this? What was the angle?

My instincts screamed at me: She's plotting something. Behind that composed smile, behind the fleeting softness in her eyes, lurked the same cold-blooded monster I'd seen in the lab.

The woman who ordered doses like they were nothing. The woman who saw people as pawns. And now, for some reason, I was one of them.

But then again... maybe that was the thrill of it.

There was something intoxicating about her—the way she carried herself like an empress surveying her kingdom, ruthless and untouchable. The challenge in her gaze, the unspoken promise of danger. She wasn't just playing a game; she was rewriting the rules. And if I was going to survive, I had to play along.

I smirked to myself, the corners of my mouth twitching with a mix of defiance and anticipation. Let her plot. Let her scheme. If Angela thought she could pull my strings without resistance, she was about to learn just how wrong she was.

I wasn't some mindless pawn, blindly following orders—I was a player in this game, too. And if she wanted to test me, I was ready. The stakes were high, the rules unclear, but one thing was certain: this game was only getting started.

After we finished our lunch, I followed Angela back to her office, the sterile white lights of the facility casting long shadows behind us. The atmosphere shifted the moment we stepped inside. The air hummed with the quiet intensity of her focus, the space filled with the soft glow of multiple screens and the faint tapping of her fingers against her tablet.

Angela didn't waste a second. She moved with purpose, her attention divided between the tablet in her hands and the laptop open on her desk.

Data streamed across the screens—graphs, reports, and what looked like genetic sequences—each piece of information absorbed with a sharp, calculating gaze. Angela was in her element, completely immersed, as if the world outside this room had ceased to exist. The glow of the monitors painted her features in shifting hues of blue and white, her focus unwavering, her presence commanding.

I watched her, my mind racing. A thought took root, bold and seductive: If I could make her mine...

Seizing this fortress wouldn't be an issue then. It would simply be a change in authority—no war, no destruction, no wasted resources. The men working here, the scientists, the guards—they would just follow new orders. My orders. No need for bloodshed, no need to burn it all down. Just a shift in power, seamless and inevitable.

I let the idea settle, feeling the weight of its potential. Angela was the key. Control her, and the fortress would fall into my hands without a single shot being fired. The challenge wasn't just in taking it—it was in keeping it. And to do that, I needed her.

But could I really bend her to my will? Or would she see through me before I even made my move? The question lingered in my mind, a taunt and a challenge all at once. Angela wasn't just a piece on the board—she was the board itself. And if I misplayed my hand, she'd crush me without a second thought.

I snapped back to the present as Angela glanced at her watch, her expression shifting from intense focus to something more relaxed. "Well," she said, her voice smooth and measured, "let's get out of here. Work time is over."

I followed her out of the building, where a sleek black car was already waiting, its engine purring softly. Angela slid into the backseat with effortless grace, and I followed, settling in beside her. The car pulled away smoothly, the driver navigating the winding roads with practiced ease. Neither of us spoke; the silence between us was thick with unspoken tension.

After a short drive, we arrived at a sprawling villa—far grander than Jennifer's house, its architecture imposing yet elegant.

The car came to a stop, and before I could reach for the door, it was opened from the outside by a woman dressed in a crisp uniform. I stepped out, my gaze sweeping over the scene. Every employee in sight was female—even the driver. A deliberate choice, no doubt.

Angela led the way inside, her heels clicking against the marble floor of the entrance hall. The living room was expansive, tastefully furnished, and bathed in warm, golden light. She moved to a plush armchair and settled into it, her posture relaxed but still commanding. I remained standing, my instincts keeping me on edge.

"Mike," Angela said, her voice carrying that same infuriating amusement, "sit down. There's no danger here."

I hesitated, my fingers flexing slightly against my thighs before I finally lowered myself onto the couch across from her. The room was too quiet, the air too still—like the calm before a storm. Angela took a slow sip from her glass, the ice clinking softly as she set it down. Her eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable.

"Mike," she said, her voice smooth but edged with something dangerous, "do you know why I hired you?"

I kept my face carefully blank, my tone light, as if the question didn't send a jolt of unease through me. "Isn't it obvious? Safety. Protection. You need someone to watch your back in a place like this."

Angela's lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes remained cold. "Oh, Mike," she sighed, shaking her head as if disappointed by my answer. "Do you honestly believe I need protecting?" She gestured vaguely toward the windows, where the faint glow of security lights hinted at the layers of defenses beyond.

"This fortress is impenetrable. Every corner is monitored. Every breath is accounted for. Even the air is filtered through systems that would detect a threat before it ever reached me." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "So tell me—why would I need you?"

I met her gaze, refusing to back down. "Then why did you hire me?" I asked, letting a hint of challenge creep into my voice.

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