Kian's pulse roared in his ears, but his face remained unreadable.
Mercer was watching him too closely, waiting. Measuring. Calculating.
The file sat heavy in Kian's hands, the weight of undeniable proof that someone had been watching them—watching him and Adrian.
And now, Mercer was dangling it like a loaded gun, waiting to see if Kian would flinch first.
Adrian, however, wasn't playing along.
"Let me save you some time," Adrian said, voice cool, controlled, and deadly. "If you think a couple of photos are going to make us kneel, you don't understand who you're dealing with."
Mercer smirked. "I understand perfectly."
Kian forced his grip on the folder to relax. If he looked too tense, too reactive, it would give Mercer exactly what he wanted.
So he exhaled and tossed the file back onto the desk.
