Page 146 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir
Thermal imaging of detainees being marched into a furnace corridor.
Audio logs of interrogation sessions that end in screaming and then nothing.
His initials are on every third page.
I don’t raise my voice.
I don’t rush.
I let the weight do the work.
Dowron finally exhales.
Long.
Controlled.
“You don’t understand the scale of what you’re interfering with,” he says quietly. “This is geopolitics. You’re thinking like a soldier, not a strategist.”
I straighten.
“You took my son.”
His gaze lifts sharply now.
I step closer.
“You authorized my prison transfer. You authorized the handler to take Leah. You authorized the fake release. You authorized a kill order on the mother of my child.”
His lips part.
Close.
Then he lies.
“You were compromised. Emotional variables made you unstable.”
I laugh once.
Low.
Ugly.
“You tortured me for six years and you’re surprised I don’t salute on command anymore?”
He stands.
Slow.
Like he’s trying to reclaim altitude in the room.
“You were built to be more than this, Kalev,” he says. “You were built to be the blade that kept the Alliance alive.”
“No,” I reply. “I was built to be disposable.”
Silence stretches.
Then he does the thing I almost respect.
