Isaac's gaze cut across the table, sharp and wordless, landing on Sven and Takeshi. The two caught the silent command instantly.
Sven clenched his jaw and leaned back, swallowing whatever colourful remark had been building behind his teeth. Takeshi remained perfectly composed, unmoving - as calm and unreadable as always.
Isaac appreciated it. He'd use their strength when needed, shamelessly if he had to, but not now. Losing his temper here would only feed his father's smugness - and Fletcher Sr. lived for control.
The man had built an empire out of it. His influence reached through London like veins of iron, binding politicians, businessmen, and criminals alike. He didn't need a mutant ability - his manipulation was its own kind of power. He'd bent his wife, his employees, and even his city to his will.
