Coffee Bar at the Fairne District, Central Texas – Late Morning

  The café hums with the low ambient buzz of ptops, ceramic clinks, and distant indie pop. Dr. Rina Matsui sits at a rounded booth near a window, her bzer sleeves rolled just enough to fsh the slight shimmer of her tech watch. Her smile is rexed but carefully moduted—polished charm hiding tightly coiled vigince. Across from her sit Naomi Chen, Maria Gutiérrez, and Tara O’Connor, each with a different brew and posture of caution wrapped in curiosity.

  Rina (light chuckle):

  “I’ve always found Central Texas women more honest than the coast. Not less ambitious—just more... surgical about it.”

  Maria (smirks, leaning back):

  “That’s polite for saying we don’t have time for ideological nonsense. You don’t strike me as the tenure-track type, Rina.”

  Rina (tilting her tte, warm tone):

  “I was. Until my reputation was strip-mined for someone else’s amusement.”

  She sips.

  “Academic integrity's a fragile thing when men with power start digging into your private life.”

  Tara (quietly, eyes narrowed):

  “You talking about Gates?”

  Rina (pauses, just long enough):

  “I’m talking about systems that reward exposure over truth.”

  Then she meets Tara’s eyes directly.

  “But yes. He was the matchstick.”

  Naomi (nodding slowly, tone clinical):

  “You disappeared from the public eye for six months. No wsuits. No op-eds. That restraint either screams trauma... or strategy.”

  Rina (smiling faintly):

  “I was detoxing from moral absolutism. That’s all academia teaches, anyway. Ivory tower outrage. I started listening to… alternate voices.”

  Maria (eyebrow lift):

  “6C?”

  Rina (ughs quickly, a touch too bright):

  “No. God, no. But I did get curious about why they move faster than we do. Why the left keeps reacting, while they build.”

  Tara (leans forward, eyes sharp):

  “They build prisons.”

  Rina (nods slowly):

  “And we build ptforms that colpse under hashtag weight. I’m not saying I admire them—but I won’t pretend I understand them yet either.”

  Naomi (measured):

  “You’re pivoting.”

  Rina (smiling gently):

  “I’m evolving. And honestly, I’m tired of choosing between slogans. I want to be part of something effective.”

  Maria (curious now):

  “Effective how?”

  Rina:

  “Look at the chaos in the legisture. Femme Group this, Plural Marriage that. What if someone rewrote the script entirely? A coalition with female infrastructure. Not protestors or influencers. Operators.”

  Tara (slow):

  “That’s a bold thing to say to a room full of watchdogs.”

  Rina (drops her gaze for a beat, then looks up):

  “I’m not asking for trust. I’m asking to understand what you each really want—beyond loyalty tests. You’ve built power. You’ve all walked away from institutions. So have I.”

  Naomi (crosses her arms, studying):

  “Sounds like you’re vetting us.”

  Rina:

  “No. I’m identifying frequencies. I want to know what you would build if you weren’t tied to the ruins.”

  Maria (quiet, almost amused):

  “Careful, Rina. That’s how revolutions start.”

  Rina (soft smile):

  “I don’t want a revolution. I want an architecture.”

  The table stills for a moment. Outside, the sun shifts slightly, catching the clean edge of Naomi’s bob, the metallic flecks in Tara’s Irish eyes, and the unmistakable glint of calcution in Maria’s poised stillness.

  Tara (finally):

  “We’re listening.”

  ....

  The waitress drops off a fresh round of drinks—iced coffee for Naomi, straight espresso for Maria, a refilled jasmine tea for Tara. The early edge of the conversation has softened, the air now ced with a guarded warmth. Rina swirls the st inch of her tte, her voice light, almost curious.

  Rina (with a casual smile):

  “So... what are you all up to these days, when you're not schooling legistors or destabilizing outdated systems?”

  Naomi (without missing a beat):

  “Cssified.”

  Then she smirks, leaning slightly forward.

  “But if you must know—I’m working with two think tanks, consulting on judicial framing nguage for a post-Roe reality. Spoiler alert: neither side's winning.”

  Rina (arching a brow):

  “Let me guess, you're the one designing the nguage that sounds neutral while threading policy bombs?”

  Naomi (with mock-innocence):

  “I prefer ‘narrative harmonics with embedded leverage.’”

  Maria (snorts):

  “She rewrites warheads into press releases.”

  Rina (to Maria):

  “And you? Still burning phones in Laredo?”

  Maria (dryly):

  “I retired from community organizing the day I realized voters respond better to TikTok thirst traps than ground game.”

  She shrugs, stretches her arms slightly.

  “I run Mujeres en Poder full time now—mostly candidate grooming. We just flipped three city councils and an entire school board by convincing male voters our Latina candidates weren’t radical. Turns out soft curls and subtle cleavage do more than campaign promises.”

  Tara (quietly amused):

  “She weaponizes charisma and cleavage with spreadsheets.”

  Rina (grinning):

  “A deadly combo. And Tara? Still pying bodyguard or did you finally retire the Kevr?”

  Tara (dry):

  “Still consulting. Mostly for activist groups who need... quiet insurance. Sometimes domestic, sometimes cross-border. And sometimes I babysit whistleblowers who don’t know when to shut up.”

  Maria (teasing):

  “Or chase bad boyfriends out of activist safehouses.”

  Tara (shrugs):

  “Someone’s gotta do it.”

  Naomi (gncing at Rina):

  “What about you? You still lecturing—or is that just your public-facing persona?”

  Rina (with a modest chuckle):

  “I teach one course a semester. Behavioral programming in code and culture. The rest of the time, I… consult. Quietly. With people trying to build systems that actually function.”

  Tara (slight nod):

  “You’re gathering pyers.”

  Rina (gently):

  “I’m observing first. The gameboard changed overnight. Some of us are already moving pieces… but I’m curious which ones you three want to protect—and which you’d be willing to sacrifice.”

  There’s a brief pause. The subtext lingers like steam off the tea.

  Maria (smirking):

  “We’ll let you know... if you stay interesting.”

  ....

  Rina leans back in her chair, her posture rexed but her eyes sharp as she studies the others. The conversation has shifted, a subtle undercurrent of calcution in the air. She takes another sip of her tea before speaking, her tone casual but with an edge of curiosity.

  Rina (casually, almost offhand):

  “You know, I’ve been reading a lot about this 6C group tely. The theocratic one that’s taken over twenty states now.”

  She gnces around, assessing the others’ reactions, then continues.

  “I’m curious—what do you all think of them? They’re obviously expanding. And fast.”

  Naomi (eyes narrowing slightly):

  “6C’s not just a group. They’re a virus—a multi-headed monster with political legitimacy. It’s terrifying how they operate in the shadows, pulling strings without appearing to.”

  She pauses, leaning back, fingers tapping lightly on the edge of her coffee cup.

  “I think they’re a direct threat to everything we’ve built—and not just in Texas. We’re talking about a machine that maniputes everything from policy to media. You can’t fight that unless you py the same game.”

  Maria (snorts, her eyes darkening with calcution):

  “Yeah, well, we don’t have the infrastructure 6C does. They’ve got control over the narrative, resources to back it up. Everyone talks about how they’re dangerous, but no one’s figuring out how to counter them.”

  She leans forward, her gaze intense.

  “Frankly, I’m just waiting for someone with the guts to either cut them down—or take their pybook and use it for our side.”

  Tara (frowning, a trace of concern in her voice):

  “You’re both missing the point. 6C’s not just a threat—they’re a paradigm shift. They’ve infiltrated at every level, from media to grassroots organizing, and they’re not even hiding it. It's not just their ws; it’s their culture. They’re building something... in pin sight, under the radar.”

  Her gaze sharpens as she gnces between the other women.

  “If we don’t start considering their tactics—if we just keep beling them as ‘dangerous’—we’ll keep losing. Fast.”

  Rina (smiling slightly, as if intrigued by their answers):

  “Interesting. So... not exactly fans, then. But are you afraid of them? Or do you see them as just another pyer in this porized mess we’re all tangled in?”

  Maria (shrugs, her tone cutting through the tension):

  “I’m not afraid of anything that doesn’t have a spine. They’ve got media power, sure, but let’s not forget they still have to py by the same rules. If someone with the right kind of influence could turn the tide—6C wouldn’t be anything but a fad. Theocrats fade.”

  Naomi (gently shakes her head):

  “They’re not a fad. This isn’t a phase—it’s a full-out system. A takeover. And it won’t stop at just twenty states. They’ll push for more. And their influence isn’t just religious; it’s structural. Look at what they’ve done with gender policies, the media. It’s a masterstroke.”

  Tara (slowly, eyes scanning the room, thoughtful):

  “They’ve thought it through... You’re right, Naomi. They’re moving fast. Too fast. But what if we joined them instead of opposing them? Not for their ideals, but for the system they’re building? Imagine what we could do if we infiltrated that infrastructure, rather than fighting against it.”

  Rina (eyes glinting with a knowing smile):

  “Exactly. So, what would it take? A little patience... or maybe a bit of reprogramming?”

  The room hangs in quiet tension as the women contempte her words.

  ....

  Rina pces her cup down gently on the saucer, her fingers lingering on the rim as she watches the others. The atmosphere has shifted, and she knows she’s edging into more personal territory. Her tone remains casual, but there's an unmistakable sharpness now, as if she's testing them.

  Rina (leaning in slightly, voice almost pyful):

  “So, what about Hezri? The man behind all this. The founder of 6C... the supposed ‘Supreme Leader.’ He’s become a bit of a legend, hasn’t he? What do you think... feel about him?”

  Her gaze flickers between Naomi, Maria, and Tara, gauging their reactions carefully.

  Naomi (pauses, her expression momentarily unreadable before she lets out a breath):

  “Hezri’s dangerous. But not in the way most people think. He’s not some power-hungry dictator... well, at least not just that. He’s a strategist. A thinker. There’s a cold precision to him. Everything he’s built, every move he’s made, is calcuted.”

  Her eyes narrow slightly.

  “Part of me respects him—for how he’s managed to unify disparate forces, to capture the hearts and minds of people. But part of me also hates what he’s doing. Using religion, maniputing media, turning people’s lives into a chessboard. He’s too methodical, too far-reaching.”

  Maria (ughs darkly, her lips curling into a half-smile):

  “Respect? For Him?”

  She leans back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

  “He’s a snake. A brilliant snake, but a snake nonetheless. He knows how to make people follow him—how to make them believe they’re doing the right thing, even when it’s all about control. He uses people like pawns, and I can’t stand that.”

  Her voice softens for a moment, a touch of admiration slipping through.

  “But—yeah, I get it. He’s a genius. He’s built something... massive. That takes a kind of mind that’s rare. But no, I wouldn’t say I feel anything but disdain for the man. I know how these types work. They make you think they’re your savior... until they’ve drained you dry.”

  Tara (slowly, her tone measured):

  “I think... Hezri’s more than just a leader. He’s an architect of control. He’s not just controlling people, he’s controlling narratives, he’s pulling strings behind the scenes—shaping how people think, how they feel. He’s a puppet master. And that’s what makes him dangerous.”

  Her voice tightens as she leans forward.

  “I feel that he’s calcuting... always ten steps ahead. He maniputes emotions, pys on vulnerabilities, and builds loyalty where it’s least expected. But I also know that people like him? They’re not easy to trust. Not even when they seem... right.”

  She eyes Rina, her words softer now.

  “But, yeah, he’s smart. Smart enough to realize that power is built from the inside out—he’s not forcing people to follow, he’s convincing them they want to. That’s a powerful kind of leader.”

  Rina (smiling slightly, her tone almost amused):

  “Fascinating... you all see him as a threat, but you also see the genius in his tactics. That’s rare. Not many can appreciate the method behind the madness.”

  She watches them carefully, as if deciding something in her mind, then continues, leaning in a little closer.

  “So, I guess the real question is... could you work with him? Or is he just too dangerous to even consider?”

  The question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, as Rina’s gaze sharpens, waiting for their response.

  ....

  Rina (her tone pyful but edged with a probing curiosity):

  “You know, I’ve heard rumors... some pretty wild ones. They say Hezri doesn’t just have power. Apparently, he keeps women as his lovers—his ‘capable’ ones. Not just for his bed, but for his... strategic purposes. Think about it, though—if the offer was made to you, would you ever consider being someone like that? A lover and a pawn, someone to serve his cause... hypothetically, of course.”

  Rina raises an eyebrow, watching them closely. She knows the question is loaded, designed to test their morals, their ambitions, and their capacity to compromise.

  Naomi (her eyes narrow as she holds Rina’s gaze, her voice cool but controlled):

  “Lover? Pawn? That’s not how I see power—or retionships. If I’m going to engage with anyone, especially someone like Hezri, it’ll be on my terms. Not his. You think I’d let myself be some tool in his game? No, thanks.”

  She leans back, a touch of disdain in her tone now.

  “I have bigger pns than being a glorified concubine or puppet. I may use people, but I’m not about to let someone use me like that. It’s not even a question.”

  Maria (a wry smile spreads across her face, a dark humor in her voice):

  “Ah, you’re testing us now, huh? A lover to Hezri? The idea’s almost ughable. You think I’d let myself be reduced to that? To serve him for some strategic advantage?”

  Her grin fades slightly, and her eyes narrow.

  “I’ll admit, I’ve used my... assets. But not like that. No, I’ve got a better handle on power than being some... thing for someone’s collection. If I’m in the game, I’m not a piece—I'm the one moving the pieces. But I’m not gonna pretend the idea doesn’t have its... appeal to some people. I just wouldn’t stoop to it.”

  Tara (her voice low and thoughtful as she shifts her posture, tapping a finger on the edge of her cup):

  “Being a pawn? Definitely not. But... I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered the other side of things. Someone like Hezri doesn’t just make random offers. He has something... compelling. Maybe it’s about loyalty, or maybe it’s about something more personal. But to be someone’s lover, someone’s pawn? No. Not my style. I protect people, I don’t get controlled.”

  Her gaze softens just a bit, the edges of her anger dissipating.

  “But, if you’re asking whether I’d py the game in a more... strategic way? I guess it depends on the stakes. But not as someone’s trophy or a tool for manipution.”

  Rina (ughing lightly, as if amused by their responses but not entirely surprised):

  “Right, right... No takers for being Hezri’s personal pawn. I was just curious. Hypothetically, of course. You all seem way too smart for that kind of thing, huh?”

  Her tone shifts again, more measured as she watches them with a knowing glint in her eye.

  “So... no one’s taking that deal, then. Good. But just remember, you’re all capable women, and in this world? Sometimes, the power you hold over others isn’t just about what you do for them—it’s about what you let them do for you.”

  She leans back, her eyes scanning the three women, as if weighing their true reactions beneath the surface. She’s pushing boundaries, but only to see where their limits really lie.

  Rina (leaning forward, her voice dipping into a more provocative tone):

  “Well, well, I see what you’re all doing—you’re judging Hezri like he’s just any average guy. But let’s be real here. He’s not just some random man. The guy rules 20 states. He controls finances, politics... hell, probably has an army of people doing his bidding. And I’m guessing he knows more than just how to talk a good game. I mean, good in bed, I’d wager. He doesn’t just get to that level by being a nobody, you know?”

  She chuckles lightly, enjoying the discomfort she’s causing, but it’s clear she’s pushing them further now.

  “Now, I’m not saying you all need to fall at his feet, but let’s not pretend that if the offer was made, you wouldn’t at least consider it. I mean, come on—this isn’t about your average man. We’re talking about power on a scale you can’t even wrap your head around. There’s a lot more than just sex or being a pawn here, you know?”

  Rina watches each woman carefully as she says this, almost daring them to react, her eyes gleaming with the desire to see if she can provoke something more than just a moral stance.

  “You don’t get to lead 6C by being a weak man. I bet Hezri is just as sharp in his... other skills. So tell me, dies—do you still hold on to that judgment of ‘not being some pawn for a man’? Or do you see the power, the potential, that comes with being close to a man like that?”

  Naomi (her voice tight with controlled irritation, but with a calm edge):

  “Let me get this straight. You’re asking us to consider being with a man just because he holds power? That’s what you’re selling here? Look, I get it—Hezri’s powerful, he’s got a kingdom, whatever you want to call it. But you think I’d throw away everything I stand for just to be a part of that? No. I’m not about to lower myself to being another accessory to someone’s rise to power, no matter how sharp he is in whatever other areas.”

  She leans in, her tone sharp now, no longer pyful.

  “I’ve made it this far because I didn’t bow to anyone, and I’m not going to start now. You think power’s sexy? Fine. But I see it for what it is—manipution. I’ll never respect a man who thinks women like me can be bought. Not even if he’s the king of 6C. I’d never be a part of that.”

  Maria (scoffing and crossing her arms, her smile now gone):

  “Please. You think sex is what matters here? Let’s cut the crap. Yeah, he’s powerful. Yeah, he’s probably good at pying people, in and out of the bedroom. But that’s the kind of man you want us to bow to? Just because he’s built this little empire of twisted beliefs and a few political wins?”

  She leans forward, eyes darkening with a hint of challenge.

  “I’ve pyed the game, I’ve used my own power, and let me tell you, any man who thinks I’m going to get down on my knees for him just because he’s rich and powerful... doesn’t know me. I get things done without crawling on my back. I don’t need someone like him to find value in me. Hezri may be a force, but I don’t bow down to power. I create it.”

  Tara (her voice firm but quieter, almost measured):

  “Are we talking about what Hezri represents or what he can offer? Sure, I can see why someone might fall for that. Power’s seductive. But I’m not about to sell myself out just because a guy knows how to wield it. You’re right about one thing—Hezri’s not some average man. But that doesn’t mean he gets to dictate what I do or who I become.”

  Her eyes narrow, a flicker of calcution crossing her face.

  “Let’s be real here, Rina. Men like Hezri don’t offer loyalty—they want obedience. They expect you to bend to their vision, to be a tool in their game. And I’m not a pawn. He can have all the power he wants, but it doesn’t change the fact that when it comes down to it, I’m the one who chooses where I stand. And I don’t need to be part of his harem to know my own worth.”

  Rina (nodding with a slight, impressed smirk):

  “So, none of you are interested in the power aspect then, huh? You’d rather stand on your own? Fine. I guess we’ll see how far that gets us. It’s not like power doesn’t come with its own price. But hey, I’m not the one who needs to get close to Hezri.”

  She takes a slow sip of her coffee, eyes still gleaming with mischief as she watches the three women.

  “Don’t judge a man by what you think you know. Sometimes, real power comes with unexpected opportunities. But you’re all smart—keep pying your cards your way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Naomi (speaking to herself, voice steady but ced with internal tension):

  “Power is seductive... yeah, I get it. She’s right about that. But where does it end? When do you stop? When do you stop letting that temptation dictate your choices? I’ve fought for this long to be seen as more than just a token, more than just someone who’s useful for someone else’s agenda. No, I won’t let Hezri’s empire, or any man, use me as a stepping stone. I didn’t work my ass off, climb through the legal and political system, just to become another pything for some powerful man. I earned this position, and I will protect it. That’s the real power—maintaining control. Maybe Rina’s been seduced by power already, but not me. I refuse to let that define me, or my future. I’ll do it my way, even if it means going against the grain.”

  Her jaw tightens, her thoughts firming up. Naomi stares out the window, silently reaffirming her stance.

  Maria (muttering under her breath, her voice hard and cynical):

  “Power... right. That’s what she thinks is the prize, huh? The guy controls 20 states, and that makes him a catch? Nah, that’s exactly the reason I’d never let myself get tangled up with him. I’ve seen it before—the manipution, the way people get pulled in thinking that having a hand in that kind of power means control. But it doesn’t. It means subjugation. Hezri’s no different than the men I’ve had to fight all my life, the ones who use charm and money to make you think you need them. He’ll sweet-talk you, tell you you're part of something bigger... then when the game’s over, you're left holding nothing but empty promises.”

  She shakes her head, a bitter ugh escaping her lips.

  “Rina’s right that power is seductive, but I know better than to fall for that. I create my own power, on my terms. I’ve been where I am because I’ve never had to beg for a seat at the table. I don’t py games with men like Hezri. They py me if I let them, and I’ll be damned if I let him think he can pull me into his little harem. I know who I am, and no man gets to define me—not even him.”

  Tara (speaking softly, with a guarded tone, as if trying to work out the complexity of the situation in her mind):

  “Power... yeah, it’s attractive. The way she put it, it almost sounds like it’s the only thing that matters. I can’t deny it, that kind of influence, that kind of control—it’s rare. And Hezri does know how to wield it. But I know what that kind of power does to people. It corrupts them. They start thinking they can manipute anything, anyone... and it all falls apart, in the end. I’ve seen it before in my line of work, when people get lost in their own games. It’s always about the next move, the next conquest.”

  She pauses, a contemptive look crossing her face.

  “I’ve always stayed loyal to my principles, stayed grounded in what I believe. I protect those who can’t protect themselves. And I’ve seen how Hezri uses people. He’s a man who commands, but he also takes—everything. He doesn’t care about loyalty, not really. What’s worse is the price people pay to be near him. Sure, he may give you everything, but it’s never enough, is it? Once you’re in, you’re a tool. Maybe Rina’s right about the allure of that kind of power, but I know what it costs. And I’m not willing to pay it. Not for a man, no matter how powerful he is.”

  Her fingers tighten around the mug in her hand, the internal struggle clear as she works through her own doubts.

  “I’ll stay true to who I am. I’ve made it this far without becoming anyone’s pawn. I’m not about to change now.”

  All three women remain silent for a moment, each in their own world, processing Rina’s words in different ways. There’s a sense of resolve in their thoughts, but also a lingering question: What would they do if the stakes were even higher? They each recognize the seductive nature of power, but they also see through the manipution. Still, they can’t deny that Rina’s words have touched a nerve—will they stand firm, or will the lure of Hezri’s empire begin to tempt them in ways they didn’t expect?

  Rina’s voice grows more pointed as she leans forward, fixing her gaze on Naomi, Maria, and Tara, her words sharp as daggers.

  “You three… you’re underestimating Hezri, and overestimating yourselves. You think you have control? You think you can hold on to power? But you can’t even conquer a small group of people, let alone a nation. Hezri didn’t just take over a few states—he took control of twenty, in less than a year. That’s not by chance. He doesn’t just have power—he knows how to wield it. You might think you’re above him, that you can talk about power like it’s a chess game, but the reality is, Hezri wins, every time. He’s a man who made a country bend to his will. What have you done that even comes close to that?”

  Rina chuckles dryly, letting the words sink in. “I mean, really, you think you're in control of the narrative? You're still struggling with your little political games, your ideals. Look at you—all you’ve managed to do is py small ball while Hezri pys on a scale none of you can even imagine. You’re fighting for ideals that don't even move the needle in the real world, and meanwhile, Hezri is shaping it. He knows how to make people want him, and not just because of his resources. It's his mind, his vision, his understanding of how people work. He doesn't just lead; he commands loyalty."

  She leans back, folding her arms, her voice low but dangerous.

  “None of you could pull off what he’s done. Not one of you could outpy him. So don’t talk to me about self-respect or morals when you haven’t even come close to doing what he’s done. The truth is, Hezri’s worth as a man is far beyond what you can imagine. Maybe you’re so used to pying the game of politics where everyone’s waiting for the next scandal or shift in the winds... but Hezri pys chess while you’re stuck pying checkers."

  She raises an eyebrow, almost daring them to challenge her. “So, don’t kid yourselves. Hezri knows how to get what he wants—and if he sees something or someone valuable, he’ll take it. And unlike you, he’ll make sure it works out for him. So, go ahead—keep holding on to your ideals. They’ll get you far… right into obscurity. But Hezri? He’s writing history.”

  Her tone softens just a bit as she leans in, a sly smile creeping on her lips.

  “You can keep pretending you're above it all, but trust me—you’ll never understand true power until you've been at his feet!"

  The words sink into Naomi, Maria, and Tara like a cold, sharp bde. Each of them feels the sting differently, yet all of them are forced to confront the uncomfortable truth behind Rina’s taunting remarks. The silence that follows is thick, and it’s clear that each of them is caught in their own internal turmoil, reevaluating their worth in the face of Hezri’s overwhelming success.

  Naomi sits back, her lips pressed into a tight line. The anger that had fred earlier in her chest starts to burn out, repced by something darker. She’s always been the strategist, the one who maniputes the rules of the game, but Rina’s words feel like a harsh spotlight on the weakness she’s been ignoring. She’s achieved so much in her life—built a career, a network, a voice—but now she’s questioning: What has she really accomplished? She thought she could control the media, shift narratives, but compared to Hezri, what is it worth? He didn’t just manipute; he commanded nations. Naomi’s proud, dismissive nature starts to crack, repced by a rare flicker of doubt.

  Maria crosses her arms tightly, a knot forming in her stomach. Her reputation as a power pyer in the political world is something she’s built from the ground up, but in that moment, she feels smaller, less significant. She’s always fought for control, used her position to push others aside and climb higher, but the scale of Hezri’s success is something she can't touch. How can I fight for power when a single man has it all? She swallows hard, trying to suppress the feeling of inadequacy creeping in. Her defiance isn’t as strong anymore—something about Rina’s words has shaken her core. Maybe I’ve been pying small games, thinking too locally, while Hezri is shifting the entire ndscape. She’s left with the bitter taste of realization that she might have been fighting all along for a pce in a world that doesn’t truly need her.

  Tara stares into her coffee cup, her fingers twitching against the mug. As the most guarded of the three, she’s spent her life learning how to protect herself, how to stay loyal to the people she cares about, but Rina’s words pierce through that. Tara’s protective instincts kick in, but the realization that she’s never had the kind of power Hezri wields hits her hard. I’ve always been a cog in the machine, she thinks, but Hezri? He is the machine. She’s always prided herself on her strength, her ability to keep her people safe, but compared to Hezri’s reach, her power feels insignificant. In that moment, her sense of security—the thing that has always anchored her—feels fragile, like it could crumble at any moment.

  As Rina watches them, a knowing look passes over her face. She’s been baiting them, and it’s clear the hook has caught deep. Naomi, Maria, and Tara are all questioning their own worth, reevaluating their actions, their careers, their pce in the world. Hezri, a man with so much power, a man who has redefined the rules, is no longer just a distant figure to them. In the cold light of reality, he becomes something tangible, someone they cannot ignore anymore.

  They may not admit it openly, but each of them is starting to wonder: Could they be more like him? Could they, too, reshape the world, rewrite the rules? Or would they forever remain pawns in a game far beyond their control?

  The silence lingers, heavy with the weight of their thoughts.