Kian didn't sleep that night.
Not because of nerves. Not because of doubt.
But because the game had already begun.
And the moment Mercer realized Kian wasn't playing by his rules?
The real war would start.
By the time the sun rose, Kian was already awake, already dressed, already three steps ahead of everyone else.
He sat at his dining table, fingers tapping absently against his coffee mug, his mind running through every possible scenario.
What Mercer would do next.
What the board was thinking.
Where the weak points were.
And, most importantly—
How to control all of it.
A soft rustle behind him pulled him from his thoughts.
Then—Adrian's voice, low and rough from sleep.
"You're thinking too loud."
Kian huffed a quiet laugh, tilting his head slightly as Adrian stepped into view.
