Octavian Ravenscroft was not the sort of man Dax Edmund had expected to see. For one, he was impeccably groomed, his hair perfectly coiffed and his suit freshly pressed. Even his nails were neatly manicured. There was a cold, calculating gleam in his eye that seemed to penetrate the very core of Dax's being. He was sitting in a chair that looked far too comfortable for a prison setting, his hands folded neatly in his lap. He was the picture of restraint, yet there was an air of menace about him. Dax's gaze remained unwavering as he addressed Octavian, his tone firm, "Octavian, let's not waste time on theatrics. I want to know who's behind the attempt on my life, and I have reason to believe you can provide answers."Octavian, his smug grin not fading, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure you have your suspicions, but you're in no position to make demands, Dax. I have my own interests to protect."Dax leaned forward, his voice laced with a touch of steel, "Octavian, you're already behind
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