Page 51 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

Saint Joaquin's eyes narrow slightly, a predatory smile playing at his lips. In the harsh spotlight, his perfectly tailored suit seems to absorb shadows, making him appear more demon than man. "The leaked footage... that was your doing, wasn't it?"

The crowd gasps collectively, the sound echoing through the ballroom like breaking glass. The crystal chandeliers seem to tremble with the force of their shock. The mere suggestion that someone would dare expose one of their own, especially in such a public manner, is beyond scandalous – it's practically sacrilege in their carefully maintained world of secrets and lies.

"Good heavens?—"

"She wouldn't dare?—"

"The absolute audacity?—"

"To expose a Leighton, of all people?—"

I take a deliberate step forward, each movement precisely calculated despite the drugs still coursing through my system. My crystaled gown catches the light like spilled blood, the ombre effect making it appear as though I'm walking through shadows into flame. The weight of Knifey against my thigh provides silent comfort as I face their judgment.

"What was my previous title again?" My voice carries clear and sharp through their shocked whispers, cutting through pretense like a blade through silk. "Remind me..."

"Ruthless Queen of Havoc," someone mutters from the crowd, the words heavy with new understanding. I catch sight of a Deviant Lord's wife clutching her pearls, as if saying the title might somehow taint her.

My laugh holds no warmth as I gesture around the opulent ballroom, taking in every horrified face, every whispered condemnation. "And isn't that exactly what I delivered?" Each word falls like a perfectly aimed blade, designed to cut through their carefully maintained facades. "Havoc in the lives of many by revealing uncomfortable truths?"

I can see them shifting uncomfortably, no doubt wondering what other secrets I might know, what other videos might exist. Good. Let them worry.

"Havoc in your carefully maintained schedules by making you wonder if I'd appear tonight?" I continue, watching fear replace indignation in their eyes. "Havoc in your sense of security by proving that even assassination attempts won't keep me from fulfilling my obligations?"

Behind me, I sense my Kings' presence like a physical force. Ares in his blood-red suit, Marcus with his calculating stillness, Ren with his dangerous grace – all of them ready to move atmy signal, to turn this elegant ballroom into a battlefield if necessary.

My eyes find Saint Joaquin's, holding his gaze with dangerous confidence. The medicine Hannah gave me makes everything crystal clear, every sense heightened to painful perfection. I can see the subtle approval in his expression, the way he's enjoying this display of calculated defiance.

"I've done precisely what was requested of me," I declare, letting my voice carry to every corner of the room. "The real-life consequences of those actions more than justify the title I was given. Or perhaps you think exposing corruption, revealing hidden violence, and surviving attempted murder isn't enough havoc for one night?"

I take another step forward, feeling the power thrumming through my veins – whether from Hannah's medicine or pure adrenaline, I'm not sure. The crowd actually steps back, creating a small circle of empty space around me. They can sense it now – the darkness that's always lived inside me, the same darkness that drew my Kings to my side.

"But by all means," I spread my arms in a gesture that makes the crystals on my gown shimmer like stars, "test me if you believe I haven't shown proper diligence. I welcome the challenge." The smile I give them holds all the warmth of a winter storm. "After all, what's a little more havoc between friends?"

Behind me, I sense my Kings tensing, ready to move at my signal. They know as well as I do that challenges in our world often turn deadly. The weight of Knifey against my thigh feels more reassuring than ever – a reminder that I'm never truly defenseless, even in a ballgown.

Bring it on, I think, letting them all see the dangerous glint in my eyes.I've already lost everything that matters. What more can you possibly take from me?

The thought of Zander threatens to crack my carefully maintained facade, but I push it away. There will be time for grief later. Time for rage and revenge and burning the world to ashes. But right now, I have a point to prove.

"Well then," Saint Joaquin's voice carries a dangerous sort of amusement, "why don't you prove yourself worthy of your new title? Show us why you deserve to be the Ruthless Queen of Obsession, since you're so... confident."

The challenge hangs in the air like smoke, heavy with implications. The crowd leans forward, eager to see how I'll respond to such a direct challenge from their untouchable leader. But I've played too many games, survived too many tests to fall for simple provocation.

"I'm more than ready," I say, letting my voice carry clear confidence. "But I have one condition."

The collective intake of breath from the crowd is almost comical. Several people actually clutch their pearls, scandalized by the mere thought of someone daring to set conditions for Saint Joaquin.

"The audacity?—"

"Who does she think she is?—"

"To make demands of Saint Joaquin himself?—"

But before the whispers can build to outrage, Mr. Leighton steps forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. "Perhaps we should hear what she has to say." His voice carries the weight of generations of power. "After all, isn't negotiation part of our tradition?"

Saint Joaquin's smile grows wider, more predatory. "Indeed. Please, my dear," he gestures expansively, "share your... condition with us."

The crowd falls silent, forced to contain their commentary under the combined pressure of both men's authority. I can feel hundreds of eyes on me, judging every movement, every breath.

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