Page 48 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

"As you're well aware, Mr. Albrecht," Saint Joaquin's voice carries just a hint of challenge, "protocol requires a minimum of three Ruthless Kings present for Ascension. Currently, I see only one."

The crowd's satisfaction at my apparent failure is almost palpable, but I allow myself a small smile. "If I may, sir, I'd like to introduce our new Ruthless Kings, chosen specifically by our Maiden."

Saint Joaquin's eyebrow raises slightly – the closest he ever comes to showing surprise. He gestures for me to proceed.

"First, may I present Marcus Williamson Wright."

The crowd's reaction is immediate as Marcus emerges from the shadows. His silver and navy blue suit catches the light like moonlight on water, the precise cut emphasizing his lean strength. His usually pristine appearance is marked by a black bandage across one cheek and another over his nose – battle scars from the hockey game that somehow only add to his commanding presence.

The way he moves reminds me of a scientist approaching a crucial experiment – measured, deliberate, every step calculated for maximum effect. His dark blue hair is slicked back elegantly, but there's something dangerous in his eyes that has nothing to do with his family's reputation.

"Wright? The medical empire Wrights?"

"Their research facility practically owns half the hospitals in the country?—"

"What's he doing here?"

Marcus takes his place at my left side, and I catch the slight tremor in his hands that speaks of exhaustion barely held at bay. Few would notice it, but I've learned to read the subtle signs of those who hide their struggles behind perfect facades.

"How did their Maiden manage this?"

"What kind of deal could she have possibly made?"

"The Wrights never align themselves with?—"

"Did you hear about the fire?" The whispered question catches my attention, making my ears strain to hear more.

"What fire?"

"At their main facility... years ago... such a tragedy?—"

But before I can hear more, Marcus shifts slightly beside me, his jaw tightening in a way that suggests the whispers aren't as private as the crowd believes. The slight movement is enough to make several people step back, suddenly remembering that the Wright family's power extends far beyond mere medical research.

"The lab genius joins the model," someone mutters. "What an odd collection she's gathering."

If they only knew. I glance at Marcus, seeing the same knowledge reflected in his eyes. They think they understand power because they have money and influence. They know nothing about the kind of power that comes from being broken and reforged in the fires of trauma and survival.

Saint Joaquin studies Marcus with unsettling intensity before turning back to me. "And the third King?"

The crowd leans forward eagerly, wondering what other surprise our Maiden has orchestrated. They're about to learn that Eva's choices are never what anyone expects.

"Our next Ruthless King," I announce with careful precision, "Ren Augustus Hudson."

The reaction is instantaneous – shocked gasps and disbelieving murmurs rippling through the crowd like waves. Ren emerges from the shadows, his emerald suit so dark it appears almost black until the light catches it just right. His shoulder-length hair, a striking mixture of forest green with streaks of midnight blue and obsidian black, is styled back elegantly behind his ears, the multiple piercings along his cartilage catching the light like stars.

"Hudson? As in Chief Hudson's son?"

"The police commissioner's golden boy?"

"This has to be some kind of trap?—"

Ren moves with the fluid grace of someone equally comfortable in black-tie galas and back-alley fights. His numerous tattoos peek out from beneath his collar and cuffs, a deliberate reminder that he's not quite what his family name suggests.

"Is this a setup?"

"Generations of law enforcement?—"

"His mother runs the largest trauma center in the state?—"

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