ROGUES' CONGRESS

Marcus stood tall, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the dimly lit, candle-lined hallway of Ravenwood Remedy's Georgian manor. The flickering flames danced across his chiseled features, accentuating his raw power.

As the representative entered the opulent chamber, Marcus's piercing gaze impaled him, its intensity palpable. The soft glow of candelabras cast eerie shadows on the walls, amplifying the sense of foreboding.

"Report," Marcus commanded, his deep voice echoing off the velvet-draped walls, the sound waves vibrating through the representative's very being.

The representative hesitated, his fingers trembling as he adjusted his cravat. The subtle scent of his nervous sweat wafted through the air, mingling with the faint tang of polished leather.

"Sebastian refused our offer," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus's expression remained impassive, a mask of granite. However, his eyes flashed with anger, like a spark igniting gunpowder – a fleeting gl