CHAPTER 140: NEW PRESIDENT ( TOM’S POV )

"I am not helping you."

On the day of my hospital discharge, Lucrezis came to pick me up.

"Tom dear, think twice before you make me angry."

"I am not helping you, Lucrezia, I am quitting."

"You are not that much of an idiot."

A puff. Short, sharp, unmistakably disapproving.

"You don’t even have Luther. Usually when people blackmail other people, they have the thing they are blackmailing the people with."

"It’s a matter of time until Luther falls into my hands. I put a bounty on him, I made him the public enemy number one."

"And it’s been more than a week and you still don’t have him!"

She stood there like she was stepping onto a red carpet, not into a hospital room.

Red dress, tight enough to restrict movement, cut low enough to make the nurses glance twice.

Her makeup looked like it took an hour—fake lashes, sharp contour, lips too glossy to kiss.

Louboutin heels clicked with every impatient shift of her weight. Even in those, she was still shorter than me. It didn’t make her any smaller.

The Chanel clutch in her hand looked new.

Probably was.

The same went for the diamond studs—Cartier, if I remembered right. I couldn’t tell if she dressed like this to impress me or try to punish me.

Either way, it didn’t work.

I was tired, sore, and her perfume was giving me a worse headache than the meds.

Plus, I am in love with Luther.

If Luther had shown up in the same dress and heels, what that grenade did to Emiliano’s apartment would be nothing compared to what this hospital would look like afterward.

She didn’t sit down.

I hadn’t even signed the discharge papers yet and I already wanted to be somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

She tapped her heel once, arms crossed. Annoyed. Like I was the one wasting her time. I swung my legs off the bed.

She didn’t either.

"You’ll regret it, Tom."

"No, I won’t."

"I will ruin you on the political stage. You’ll end up a dirt-poor beta just like your father!"

Hah.

Bringing my father into this blackmail means she was desperate now that her tactics didn’t work.

"I see you did your research."

Lucrezia pressed her lips together, clearly annoyed.

The tension in her jaw was obvious, even under the layers of makeup. Without a word, she stepped forward and grabbed my face—fingers firm, nails sharp against my skin.

She tilted my head up, forcing me to meet her eyes.

Her grip was deliberate, not affectionate.

Her expression told me she was done being ignored, done playing patient.

I could feel the frustration radiating off her, controlled but barely. Her perfume hit me again—sweet, overpowering. My temples throbbed.

She didn’t blink.

"You need me."

"No, you want me. I’m a good f-ck and I am the perfect lawyer to help you with your omegaphobe plan.

"

"Yes."

"I am gay."

She scoffed—quiet, sharp, just loud enough for me to hear it. Not a laugh, not even close.

It was dismissal.

"No. You’re just in love with Luther. Love passes, social status doesn’t."

"I beg to differ."

"You are too smart to be average."

"And you are too perfect to be desperate."

Lucrezia smiled—tight, satisfied, without warmth.

Then she let go of my face, her fingers trailing off with a final press of control.

She adjusted the strap of her clutch, turned without a word, and walked out.

"You will regret this, Tom."

The sound of her Louboutins echoed down the hall, sharp and deliberate. She didn’t look back.

The sway of her red dress was the last thing I saw before the door clicked shut behind her.

Silence returned, heavier than before.

I exhaled, jaw tense, temples still pulsing.

"This is so exhausting", I mumbled to myself.

But Lucrezia wasn’t important now. At least, not our transactional relationship.

She has the upper hand— all her chess pieces are in place.

Claus will take the Prime Minister’s role. He’s not smart or rich enough to risk that position. He most likely will keep following orders since Lucrezia will give him social power and the promise of Luther.

Killian will probably be the one developing the Drought Plan’s drug. Lucrezia had him tied around finger even without Luther being a factor in the game.

Emiliano is not even aware about all of this. If he knew, God knows what the evil gnome would do.

Lucrezia is untouchable since her company is a pillar of our country’s economy. Mark has her back and with Claus as the new Prime Minister, the only one who can really do anything about her is the president.

But the presidential campaign is still open.

Which makes any of the candidates weak and vulnerable.

Once the king of the chessboard is captured, it will be a checkmate for me.

F-ck.

I pushed off the bed slowly, the stiffness in my ribs reminding me to take my time.

My suit hung neatly on the chair—dark red, tailored, sharp. I slipped the trousers on first, careful not to tug too hard at the stitches. The jacket followed, the silk lining cool against my skin. The fabric hugged my frame like it had been made for today.

It had.

Being a boy toy at least gave me a more than decent wardrobe.

I stood in front of the small mirror and ran product through my hair, pushing it back with precision.

No loose strands.

No mess.

I adjusted the collar, straightened the cuffs, and stepped into polished shoes that hadn’t seen a sidewalk in a week.

No more hospital gown.

No more fluorescent lights.

I checked my watch, grabbed my phone, and left the room without looking back.

Time to go.

Three main candidates in the presidential run:

David Hanover— 35 years old, Samsing tycoon.

Nathan Blois- 40 years old, born in a semi-regal in a European royal country.

Thymoth Alpin- 34 years old, civilian roots, symbol of the lower class despite being born in a middle class family.

Time to do some digging and all of them and choose my favorite— the one Lucrezia doesn’t want.

Time to meet the future president!