She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 800

Horace knew the young President was listening.

He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed. "Lucian is a superhero right now. The military's golden boy, the legend who crawled back from hell. His public approval rating has reached a dangerously high threshold. How much time do you have left in office? A year? Six months? If he decides to run in the next election... hell, he doesn't even need to want it. The fanatical public, the conservative faction who worships him, and all the political rivals you've angered over the years will push him into the spotlight."

He shook his head, feigning sympathy. "What are your odds? A virtually deified war hero versus an outgoing civilian president surrounded by enemies and lacking military backing?"

"He would never enter politics!" the President growled, though his voice lacked conviction. He was already wavering.

"Maybe not before," Horace pressed relentlessly. "But now he has Loyce. You know exactly how capable and ruthless that woman is. What happens when she realizes that absolute power is the only way to protect everything she cares about? She'll push Lucian to the top, and she'll be the true power behind the throne. When that happens, do you think the hawkish faction you've suppressed will miss the chance to destroy you?"

Every single word struck the President's deepest, darkest fears. A post-presidency witch hunt, political retaliation, the erasure of his legacy—these were the nightmares that kept him awake at night.

Horace ruthlessly stripped away the polite facade.

The study fell deathly silent. The President looked pale. He picked up his cold tea, his hand trembling ever so slightly.

Horace knew he had him.

His tone shifted, becoming smooth and deeply persuasive. "Handing him over to me isn't hurting him; it's an invitation. Stellar Trust requires a dominant heir, and my daughter needs an untouchable husband. He will leave Harmony Country. He will leave the center of this political vortex. For you, a Lucian who lives overseas running a corporate empire is vastly safer—and much more beneficial—than a Lucian who stays domestic and gets elevated to godhood to run against you."

"He will become the king of Stellar Trust, and you will permanently eliminate the largest, most unpredictable threat to your reelection. Your citizens will continue to revere their hero abroad, and your seat will remain perfectly secure. Isn't that the arrangement that best serves your core interests?"

The President's grip on his teacup tightened. "Why him? There are countless brilliant men in the world. Why him specifically? What history do you have with him? Tell me."

"It's quite cliché, actually," Horace replied. "He saved my life."

The President closed his eyes, visibly fighting a massive internal war.

After a long silence, he set down his cup. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, each word carrying immense weight. "What do you need me to do?"

A flash of triumph gleamed in Horace's eyes, gone before it could be registered.

"You only need to do one thing," Horace murmured, his voice dropping low, sealing the devil's bargain. "When the time is right, arrange a minor 'accident' or a 'special mission.' Something that separates Lucian from his impenetrable security detail, even if just for a few hours. Stellar Trust will handle the rest cleanly. Nothing will trace back to you. He will 'voluntarily' board my plane, and all evidence will point to him making his own choice—perhaps disillusioned by domestic politics, or perhaps seeking better medical treatment abroad. Who knows?"

The President's eyes snapped open, locking onto Horace with a deeply conflicted gaze.

He didn't say "yes," but he didn't refuse again.