He hadn’t expected him to be at the desk studying, but then, when you were the president, you put everyone else before yourself.

Those were Damian’s thoughts as he entered the private quarters belonging to the president and his wife. Luckily for Damian, the witch was nowhere nearby.

She had been pretty occupied herself.

He approached the desk where President Lewiston studied reports, his gaze sharp and focused.

Damian cleared his throat. “Sir, the social media protests have gained traction. People are rallying behind Ranya over the preservation of his mother’s home.”

Lewiston raised an eyebrow, a faint smile creeping across his face. “I am very much aware of how...