[Dog Tamer] Refuse, reminding the General of her sacrifice

Isabella did not move, her mind reeling. Serrano's words echoed in her ears, his threats lingering in the air.

She knew that if she refused, he would not hesitate to seize power. His dedication to her father's legacy was too great, and he would not allow even his daughter to stand in the way.

And yet, she could not submit. She could not give him what he wanted. To do so would mean admitting defeat, conceding to his authority, and she was not ready to give up.

"No."

She did not recognize her own voice. It was barely a whisper, but it was filled with a conviction she did not know she possessed.

"What did you say?" Serrano's eyes narrowed, his tone dangerous.

"I said no. I will not give in. I will not bend. You are not the only one to uphold my father's legacy, General."

Isabella's voice grew louder, her determination rising with every word.

"You speak of sacrifice, yet you would betray my father's legacy. You speak of love, yet you would use his **** as an excuse to take power. You speak of loyalty, yet you would turn the very men who fight for this country against me, his heir. You would not just break my father's trust—you would use his **** as justification!"

"You think I am weak little girl, unable to command the army. I will prove to you that I can. If you are truly loyal to my father, you will at least let me try."

Serrano’s expression darkened as Isabella’s words cut through the haze of his grief and rage. For a moment, he seemed ready to lash out again, his body tensed and his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. Then something shifted in his demeanor. His shoulders slumped, and the fiery anger in his eyes dulled into a weary resignation.

"You think you can lead them?" His voice was low, almost a growl. "You think you can take charge of an army when you’ve never marched a day in the mud, never watched your men die screaming because of a decision you made?"

Isabella stepped closer, the fear she had felt moments ago replaced by a quiet, simmering resolve. She kept her gaze locked on Serrano’s, unflinching despite the dangerous edge to his tone.

"I may not have marched in the mud, General, but I am my father’s heir, and I will honor his legacy by leading this nation as he intended. That includes the army." She gestured toward him, her voice steady and firm. "But I also know what I don’t know. You are a soldier, Serrano. A warrior. And I will listen to your advice, heed your counsel, as I already have. Even when I disagreed, did I not sacrifice my body in exchange, allowing the men to gaze upon my naked skin? My commitment to Montesoro is absolute, General—but the command must remain mine. Montesoro’s military serves its President, not the other way around."

Serrano leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably, punctuated only by the faint ticking of a clock on the wall.

Finally, he spoke, his tone softer but still edged with bitterness. "You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that. Just like your father. He wouldn’t back down either, no matter the odds." He sighed deeply, as though releasing the remnants of his anger. "If I agree to this... if I let you keep your oversight and let the Ministry remain, then you’ll have to prove to me—and to every soldier under my command—that you’re not just a figurehead. That you’re worthy of their loyalty."

"And I will," Isabella replied firmly. "Starting with removing the traitors that are trying to tear down my father's legacy even as we speak."

Serrano studied her for a long moment, his sharp eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained grim. "Very well, Presidente. I’ll remain under your chain of command. But understand this—if you falter, if you hesitate when decisions need to be made, I will not hesitate to assume command."

Isabella extended her hand to him, her gaze unwavering. "Then let’s work together, General."

Serrano hesitated briefly before taking her hand in a firm grip. His calloused fingers dwarfed hers, but in that handshake was a **** acceptance of her authority.

As Isabella excused herself and turned to leave the room, she felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt since her father’s ****: hope. The path ahead was treacherous, and Serrano’s trust was fragile at best, but she had taken a step forward.

Gain [Loyal Troops]