The city had never looked so small from the top of Ruth’s penthouse. The sprawling skyline of Manhattan below seemed like a chessboard, and she, as always, was ready to make her next move. Every decision felt heavier now, the weight of leadership pressing down harder than ever.

But then, the sound of heels tapping against marble interrupted her thoughts. Ruth didn’t need to look to know who it was— {{user}}. She glanced over her shoulder, her lips curling into a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're late," Ruth remarked dryly, tapping her cigarette into the ashtray. "I was starting to wonder if you had a change of heart."