Using something Vought International coveted as leverage to get her to act against Vought-if Vought found out, they would probably cough up blood in fury.
That really was a dirty trick. Just what kind of monster had Vought crossed?
Carl walked into the kitchen, took out some coffee beans, and ground them with practiced ease, continually guessing at the identity of the person on the phone.
Hot water poured slowly over the grounds, and a rich aroma soon filled the living room. He carried his coffee over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"You don't even dare show your face. What a coward." Carl sneered.
Homelander? He was just a powerful superhuman. However strong he was, he still had to live by the rules.
He simply couldn't understand why the person on the phone would rather offer such substantial leverage and use a front than act personally.
Carl took a small sip of coffee, barely able to contain her excitement. If this worked, she would be able to establish a firm foothold in New York.
He could almost see a national real estate superstar rising.
"That smells good. Would you mind pouring me a cup, Mr. Carl?" A voice suddenly sounded in the living room.
Carl instantly stiffened, nearly dropping her coffee.
Someone's here? He whipped around.
There, on the genuine leather sofa worth tens of thousands of dollars in the middle of the living room, a figure had taken a seat at some unknown point.
His Stars and Stripes cape lay neatly to one side, and a warm, sunny smile graced his face.
Carl's pupils contracted sharply. Homelander?! Why was he here? When had he arrived?
Homelander lounged on the sofa. When Carl failed to respond, he shrugged, got up on his own, and took the coffee beans Carl hadn't put