AUTUMN LIAM'S POV
The grand dining room of President Gregory Marks' house was as imposing as I imagined, with its high ceilings, polished floors, and the flicker of soft candlelight. The walls were adorned with portraits of powerful men and women, a constant reminder of the Marks family legacy. I sat next to my father, Senator Liam, at one end of the long, formal dining table, feeling more like an accessory than a guest.
Laurene Marks, Gregory's wife, was seated at the head of the table, looking every bit the part of a First Lady—gracious, yet cold. Across from me sat Salome Marks, Gregory's daughter. She was beautiful in an almost fragile way, with her delicate features and an effortless grace. She smiled at me briefly, though her eyes remained distant as if we both understood our roles in this performance.
