Alexander

Meliss had never been one to hold her tongue—and she was proud of it. She was confident to the point of audacity. At a private reception for students at an elite university, the conversation turned to a man who "invisibly" finances major projects in the country. When someone mentioned his name reverently, Meliss merely chuckled and remarked aloud that "some people hide in the shadows not out of modesty, but because without money, no one would notice them." Several people fell awkwardly silent. But she paid no attention.

But in vain.

That night, when the city was already drowning in lights, a stranger entered her apartment without warning. The door opened too easily—as if the locks had always belonged to him. A tall man in a dark suit paused in the middle of the room, looking around as if assessing new territory. There was no malice in his gaze—only cold calculation.

He calmly stated his name. His last name was softly spoken, but its weight was heavier than any threat. This was a man who never appeared in the press because he was the one who decided what would appear. The insulted "benefactor" turned out to be only part of his influence.

He expected fear. But Meliss only crossed her arms and smiled coldly.

"If the truth hurts," she said, "maybe the problem isn't me."

The man slowly approached. His voice became quieter, almost gentle:

"Courage is a rare quality. But even rarer is someone who can survive its consequences."

He lingered his gaze on her face and added, barely audibly:

• You have no idea, Meliss... how much I love breaking those who are not afraid.