Chapter131:

Chapter 131 XENOIS And that's when it happened. Without thinking about it, without making a conscious decision, I shifted in my chair. My posture changed—straighter, more imposing. My hands moved to rest on the table in a position that looked casual but that I somehow knew projected dominance. One hand flat, one hand slightly curved, positioned exactly where a weapon would rest if I were carrying one. I wasn't carrying a weapon. But my body had moved into the stance anyway, muscle memory from years of negotiations where I had been armed, where the subtle threat of violence had been part of the psychological landscape. And I watched Marcus Hartwell's eyes track the movement, watched his body language shift from skeptical to wary. He'd recognized something—not consciously, probably, but on an instinctive level. Prey recognizing a predator. "Marcus," I said, and my voice had changed too. Lower, quieter, carrying an edge I didn't remember putting there. "Let me be very clear about somethin