Page 8 of Crystal Veil

For the first time since I was brought here, the silence doesn't feel like a prison. It feels like peace. Like coming home to a place I didn't know I was searching for. His arms tighten around me, protective and warm, shutting out the rest of the world.

“You're not alone anymore,” Renat declares quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “Not ever again.”

And this time, surrounded by his warmth and the promise in his voice, I believe him.

4

RENAT

I don't blink as I stare at the screen. My jaw locks. My pulse stutters, then vanishes into a dead silence.

The surveillance footage plays out in perfect clarity, each frame a damning testament to the rot that has been festering within my organization. Dock 14 was hit exactly as I knew it would be. Only it wasn't real. There were no weapons. No shipment. Nothing but a hollow container and a silent test to expose the cancer spreading inside my empire. The trap worked better than I could have anticipated.

Francesco Bennato's men showed up right on time, armed to the teeth and crawling over the shipping yard like rats in the dark. They were looking for something that didn't exist, chasing intel that should never have left my lips. And now I know the leak. The knowledge sits in my stomach like a stone.

Only two people had the full details. Me and Sergey.

I lean back in the leather chair, the high-tech security suite glowing around me, washing the polished wood of the desk in cold blue light. The monitors display multiple angles of the dock,each one showing Bennato's men moving with military precision through what should have been an impenetrable location. My location. My territory. My secrets laid bare by someone I trusted with my life.

Artur stands just inside the doorway, silent and waiting like a sentinel. His shoulders are rigid with tension that permeates the room. He's already seen the surveillance feed and knows what I'm thinking. The man has been with me long enough to read the subtle shifts in my expression, the way my fingers drum against the armrest when violence is brewing.

“What time did they arrive?” I ask without looking at him.

“11:25PM. Three SUVs, and two sedans. Five minutes ahead of schedule.”

The precision of their timing confirms what I already suspected. This wasn't a lucky guess or intercepted communication. This was inside information delivered with accuracy. Someone gave them not just the location, not just the time, but the exact window of opportunity.

“Survivors?”

He hesitates for just a moment, and in that pause, the consequence of what transpired at the dock. “One. Bleeding out when we got there. We took him.”

“Good.” I finally swivel toward him, my voice low and deliberate. “I want his tongue before morning. But I want him alive long enough to talk. Keep the doctor close.”

Artur nods once, understanding the delicate balance required. Information first, then retribution. The man will tell us everything he knows about Bennato's operation, including whoelse might be involved and how deep this betrayal runs. Only then will he pay the ultimate price for trespassing on my territory.

He disappears like smoke, leaving me alone with the damning evidence flickering across multiple screens.

I press my fingers together and exhale slowly through my nose, trying to contain the rage that threatens to consume rational thought. The fury burns in my chest like acid, eating away at the careful control I've maintained for years. This is personal. This goes beyond business, beyond territory disputes, beyond the usual dance of power that defines our world.

Sergey.

His name echoes in my mind like a knife. I trusted him with everything. Protected him when others questioned his loyalty. Elevated him to a position where he had access to my most sensitive operations. He's been my second-in-command for years, the man who stood beside me when my father drew his last breath, who helped me consolidate power and build this empire into something that even the old country respects.

And he's been feeding my enemy. My rival. The same man who tried to murder Elena and put her in a hospital bed.

The thought of Elena being harmed because of Sergey's betrayal makes my hands curl into fists. My knuckles crack audibly in the silence of the room. She doesn't know yet about the tip I planted or what I suspected. She thinks I've grown colder because of the stress, the pressure of leadership, and the chaos Bennato's created in our lives. But she doesn't know that betrayal lives under my own roof. That the man who stood beside me for years now wants my empire. My throne. My life.

The irony tastes bitter on my tongue. I've been hunting external threats, while the real danger has been sharing meals at my table.

I open the folder Viktor delivered this morning, the manila envelope thick with evidence that will reshape everything I thought I knew about my organization. Encrypted interceptions fill the pages, three weeks of tracked burner phone numbers, location data, and financial transfers that paint a picture of deception so deep it's almost artistic in its scope.

One of the tracked numbers pinged repeatedly near the construction site where Sergey has been running a development project behind my back. But the timing of those pings, the frequency, and the correlation with other suspicious activities tell a different story entirely.

The phone doesn't belong to Bennato. It doesn't even belong to Sergey directly. It belongs to Bianca. The message history is brief and coded in an amateurish manner, typical of people who think they're being clever. But not enough to hide intent from someone who's been reading between the lines since childhood.

I read the exchange again, just to be certain, each word burning itself deeper into my memory.

Bianca:He took the bait. Dock 14. 11:30PM. We'll be watching.