Chapter 14
Saxton chooses the location for the meeting.
Instead of a private room or a quiet office, he sends coordinates to the top floor of one of their newest acquisitions, a glass tower overlooking the city, all lights and height and exposure, a place designed to make people feel small while pretending it’s freedom.
Michelle arrives alone.
That’s intentional.
The space is too large, too clean, too staged, and she can feel how this building exists to amplify Saxton, not her, every reflective surface turning him into something mythic while she feels like a flaw in the architecture.
Saxton stands near the windows with his back to her, city glittering behind him like a crown, hands folded loosely as if he’s waiting for applause.
Isolation presses down when the doors close behind her.
No exits.
No witnesses.
He turns and smiles, genuine for half a second, the version of him that used to split stolen sandwiches with her behind abandoned houses, the boy who learned hunger before power.
“I missed this,” he says. “Just us.”
A strange uneasy feeling slices through the moment.
“I know you took Mom’s meds,” Michelle says, not raising her voice, not accusing, just placing the truth between them like an object that can’t be ignored.
Saxton doesn’t deny it.
He exhales.
“She was going to give it away,” he says. “All of it. She thought morality mattered more than blood.”
The betrayal lands complete and irreversible.
“You killed her,” Michelle says.
“I corrected a mistake,” Saxton replies calmly. “And now I’m fixing another one.”
That’s when the second revelation hits.
He pulls a gun.
Not rushed.
Not shaking.
Prepared.
“You’re unpredictable,” he continues. “You hesitate. You feel. That’s dangerous at this level.”
Michelle backs toward the windows, heart hammering so hard it feels like it’s punching through her ribs, the city yawning beneath her like a mouth waiting to be fed.
“You don’t have to do this,” she says.
“I already have,” Saxton replies.
