"I can pay you far more than the Pharaoh. Triple, perhaps. Name your price."
Beneath the golden mask, Nathan's lips curled into a hidden smirk.
This—this was precisely the outcome he had hoped for.
And it was only just beginning.
"I demand a high price," Nathan said, his voice low and unwavering, like a blade pressing against a throat. "But what use is gold to a man laid out in a grave?"
Caesar's brows drew together in a frown. "What are you implying, mercenary?"
