CHAPTER 144: CHAPTER 144: LET HIM

Stone’s mouth curved, humorless. "Jonathan Clarke pays well. But you pay better." His hands adjusted the cuffs of his suit as he moved deeper into the office, every motion controlled. "And between us, sir, Jonathan never pays in full. He pays in promises. Influence. Invitations. All things that look like wealth until you’ve cashed them and found the accounts empty. And at my age only money matters."

Victor made a quiet, amused sound, leaning forward just enough for the black stone on his hand to catch the light. "So you sold him information you wanted me to see."

"Precisely." Stone didn’t flinch. "Why hide bait when the hound always finds it? I passed along what he wanted, just enough to stir you. And here we are." He spread his hands, palms open in mock transparency. "I’ve worked with your projects before, Mr. Numen. I know the difference between true investment and smoke. The Clarke family wants Elias alone in the labs. That’s their game. Jonathan believes separating him from you is the only way to harness what he thinks Elias can do."

Victor’s smile curved slow and sharp. His crimson eyes caught the light, burning like banked fire. "Alone," he echoed, the word tasting like venom. "They still think they can strip him down to a function."

Stone inclined his head slightly, glasses flashing again as though they too wanted to catch the glint of danger across the desk. "Jonathan is desperate. And I have no care for his antics. Elias is my student, and whatever he overthought about this..." His lips twitched, almost indulgent. "Tell him he did have control in what he studied."

Victor’s brow arched, the motion languid but steeped in disdain. "Is that so? The grand Stone taking in a student out of grace?"

Stone chuckled, low and unhurried, though there was nothing warm about the sound. "We both know that’s not true. Elias had two benefits for me. First, Jonathan nearly lost his mind when his son didn’t bend the way he wanted. Watching him scramble to force meaning out of nothing was... instructive. Second..." he adjusted his cuff, voice turning clinical, "the boy is a genius in ether modelation. Why would I waste the cheapest labor I’ll ever find? He solved models in hours that would have taken my graduate assistants weeks. I didn’t need to drag him forward. He pulled himself there."

Victor leaned forward, elbows braced on the desk, ring catching the light like a dark brand. His smile thinned, more blade than curve. "Genius," he repeated softly. "You sound almost proud, Professor."

Stone’s gaze flickered, the faintest edge of discomfort finally surfacing before he smoothed it down again. "I’m practical, Mr. Numen. I recognize value where it exists. Elias Clarke has value. That doesn’t mean I was ever sentimental about it."

Victor’s laugh came low, velvet-dark, filling the office like smoke. "Good," he murmured, eyes glinting as he steepled his fingers. "Because sentiment I’ll tolerate. Exploitation? Never again."

Stone adjusted his glasses, the faintest twitch of a smile touching his mouth. "I got the idea the moment you presented him as your mate. I didn’t get here by being stupid." His voice stayed calm, but there was a flicker of something underneath it, respect, perhaps, or self-preservation dressed as wit. "So, Mr. Numen, what do I need to do?"

Victor leaned back in his chair, deep navy fabric pulling smooth across his shoulders, watch catching the light. The ring Elias had placed on his hand gleamed black against his skin as he lifted it, resting the weight of his jaw against his knuckles. "Simple. Take Clarke’s offer. Nod along, make him believe I’d be careless enough to leave Elias alone in those labs." His smile curved, slow and predatory. "Play the part. Keep him thinking he’s clever."

Stone’s brows rose, just enough to show he understood the edge hidden in the words. "Don’t you want Theobald too?"

Victor’s eyes glinted, the black-stone ring catching the light as he flexed his fingers against the desk. "Practical as ever, Professor Stone. Sure—add him to the mix. And I’ll make sure you’re properly compensated for your time." His smile curved, slow and merciless. "Consider it a bonus for creativity."

Stone inclined his head, the gesture precise, measured. "A pleasure to do business with you, as always, Mr. Numen."

Victor’s crimson gaze didn’t soften. "Business is easy. What comes next is sport."

Stone adjusted his glasses, the faintest flicker of unease tightening his jaw, but he didn’t speak again. He knew when to step back, when the conversation had ended.

Victor leaned back in his chair, his navy suit shifting with the motion, every line of him sharp. "Adam will see you out. Expect the transfer within the hour. And, Professor..." he let the pause hang, velvet-dark, until Stone’s gaze locked back on him, "if Clarke dares think he can claim Elias again, make sure he knows he’ll be paying for the illusion with his whole fortune."

Stone gave a final nod, turned, and left the office. The door shut behind him with a quiet click, leaving Victor alone in the wide expanse of glass and steel, the city lights burning below.

His hand shifted, the black-stone ring catching the dim glow of the skyline. For a long moment, his crimson eyes lingered on it, the reminder that what Jonathan Clarke saw as a pawn was his mate, his omega... his.

The air shivered.

It was faint at first, a fracture at the edge of his awareness, but it spread fast, a ripple in the ether that clawed down the spine of the city. Power buckled somewhere far off, a jagged surge like glass under too much weight. The lights outside flickered.

Victor’s smile deepened, though his eyes narrowed, the crimson glow flaring sharper.

Theobald.

The boy had started his ascension. And like every reckless would-be god before him, he was tearing the world open just to prove he could.

Victor reached for his phone with unhurried calm, pressing a single number. The line picked up almost immediately.

"Samael," Victor said, velvet-dark, as if the ether rupture wasn’t rattling the glass around him. "You felt it."

On the other end, Samael’s voice was clipped, sharp. "Yes. Theobald. He’s starting."

Victor leaned back in his chair, the expensive watch at his wrist catching the faint pulse of the skyline’s trembling light. "Then let him."

There was a pause, the kind heavy enough to register surprise even from Samael. "You’re not going to stop it?"

Victor’s laugh came low, sharp, almost a growl. "Why would I? Let him claw his way up. Let him touch fire he can’t hold."

The ether cracked again, faint tremors echoing like thunder far in the distance. Victor tilted his head, listening as if it were music.

"Keep Connor on the ground," he added, voice steady, absolute. "I want eyes on every step. If Theobald burns, I want to see the flames."