Gabriel had been waiting for that question.
But a man like him never revealed his hand too quickly.
Instead, he opened the polished cigar box resting on his desk and selected one with deliberate care. He ceremoniously clipped the end, then lit it. The flame flickered between them before settling into a steady glow. He drew in a long puff and leaned back, exhaling smoke as though time itself bent to his pace.
Alexander waited.
Patiently.
He had known men like Gabriel, men who mistook theatrics for power. As crown prince, he had endured far grander displays. Compared to that, this was almost amateur.
What he had only recently understood, however, was something far more telling: Gabriel did not consider Maximilian family.
Not after his father's death.
And with that knowledge, Maximilian's words from their last meeting echoed differently in his mind.
"I'm alone."
At the time, Alexander had brushed it off.
Now it carried weight.
