For three years, everyone in the capital knew the truth: Adam Mason was a dog kept by Elisa Fox.
On call twenty-four-seven. Never fought back when hit. Never talked back when scolded.
I didn't refute her. Didn't even look up.
If this were the Adam Mason from three years ago, I would have flipped the table and sent that plate of shells flying into their faces.
But now, I kept my head down, eyes locked on the time glowing on my phone screen.
Three hours remaining.
I inhaled slowly, picked up another crayfish, and let their jeering laughter dissolve into white noise.
My mind drifted back three years—to Elisa's mother clutching my hand on her deathbed.
The once decisive, iron-willed businesswoman had looked fragile as a child in her final moments.
"Adam... I know this isn't fair to you." Her grip was fading, each breath a wheeze. "But Elisa... her pride will be her downfall. The collateral branches of the Fox family are circling like wolves. If you don't protect her, they will swallow her alive."
"Three years. Just give me three years. Help her secure her position. Shield her."