“You’re here,” Lorens says, more sharply now, his hand shifting behind his back as if grounding himself. “On my estate. Surrounded by my people.”
“And still,” I reply, letting my gaze flick briefly toward the guards before returning to him, “you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of that.”
His jaw tightens, the first visible crack in the performance.
“You misunderstand your value,” Lorens says, straightening slightly, pulling his composure back into place through effort. “Alive, you’re leverage. Dead… you’re a statement.”
There it is.
I don’t react outwardly, but internally everything sharpens into alignment.
“Go on,” I say, my voice quieter now, encouraging.
Lorens studies me, just for a moment longer than necessary, before continuing.
“You’ve created a narrative,” he says, his tone smoothing again, though it lacks the earlier ease. “One where you’re… significant. Where your presence alters outcomes.”
“And you want to correct that,” I say.
“I want to define it,” he replies, stepping closer now, reclaiming proximity.
“With my execution,” I say, watching him carefully.
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Yes,” Lorens answers, his voice firm, decisive, as if committing to it reinforces his position.
I let that settle fully before I respond, allowing the silence to do part of the work for me.
“You think that strengthens you,” I say, my tone softer now, more focused.
“I know it does,” he counters immediately.
I shake my head slightly.
“No,” I say. “You think it restores you.”
That lands harder.
Lorens’s expression tightens again, the mask slipping just enough to expose the insecurity underneath.
“You lost control,” I continue, taking a slow, measured step forward, closing the space just enough to shift the dynamic. “You lost face. You lost credibility. This”—I gesture lightly between us—“is you trying to take it back.”
“And it will work,” he says, though the certainty in his voice is thinner now.
I let a small smile touch my mouth.
“Will it,” I ask.
He doesn’t answer immediately, and that hesitation is everything.
“You execute me,” I continue, my voice lowering slightly, drawing him in, “and you prove you can eliminate a liability.”
“Exactly,” Lorens says quickly, seizing onto the statement.
“But you also prove something else,” I add.
His brow furrows.
