24. The Game

The air smelled of leather and polish as Knight sat in the backseat of a sleek black SUV, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the armrest. The tinted windows shielded him from the curious eyes of the bustling city outside. His face, calm yet focused, was illuminated by the soft glow of his tablet as he scanned through the numbers that danced on the screen. The city was alive, but here, in the quiet luxury of his world, everything was controlled, calculated.

The car sped smoothly through Washington, D.C., weaving through traffic with ease. Knight’s phone buzzed softly, and without looking, he pressed the call button in his earpiece.

“Talk to me,” he said in a low, firm voice.

“Sir, the deal is almost complete. We just need your final signature,” a voice replied from the other end. “The White House contract is secured. We’re talking a billion-dollar deal. The fleet of luxury armored vehicles will be delivered within the month.”

Knight allowed himself a small smile, leaning back into th