Chapter 181 The Scapegoat

• The night was still, the air thick with the anticipation of what was to come. Simon stood on the roof of the Packhouse, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out over the moonlit forest. The shadows of the trees stretched long and dark, their shapes shifting with the gentle breeze. But Simon's mind was far from the serene beauty of the night. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing with the excitement of the plan he had set in motion.
• He had been waiting for this moment, this exact scenario, for what felt like an eternity. The culmination of his carefully laid plans, the fruition of his ambitions, was almost within his grasp. He could feel it, the power, the authority that would soon be his—through Isaac. And, of course, through Logan's unfortunate... illness.
• A soft rustling behind him broke his train of thought, and Simon turned to see Isaac approaching. The young man’s expression was one of curiosity, tinged with a hint of impatience. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had hurried to meet Simon the moment he was summoned.