Chapter 2 - The Master Wing Breach
The corridor leading to the master wing was draped in deep burgundy velvet and heavy oak paneling, completely silent save for the rapid, heavy thud of my boots against the floor. Marco and four armed operatives flanked me, their weapons drawn and safety switches clicked off.
My private study. The only place in the entire estate that required a dual-key biometric override and a six-digit rolling cipher known only to me.
“Clear,” Marco hissed, kicking the heavy mahogany door wide open.
The room was bathed in the pale amber glow of the midnight moon filtering through the floor-to-ceiling bay windows. Everything looked pristine. My leather armchair sat behind the grand mahogany desk. The bookshelves stood tall and orderly. The fireplace was cold and swept clean.
“Sweep,” I ordered.
The operatives fanned out across the room, checking behind the velvet drapes, underneath the desk, and inside the recessed alcoves.
“All clear, boss,” one of them muttered, lowering his weapon a fraction. “No physical presence.”
“Then where is the repeater?” I demanded, walking straight toward my desk.
I stopped. My gaze fell upon a heavy crystal paperweight resting on top of a stack of international shipping manifests. It was a custom piece—a solid block of leaded crystal enclosing a miniature bronze sculpture of a wolf.
I had received it three days ago, delivered via private courier with no return address. I had assumed it was a peace offering from one of the maritime union bosses in Rotterdam.
I reached out and picked it up.
The base of the crystal was warm. Too warm.
“Marco,” I said quietly.
Marco stepped beside me, shining his tactical flashlight directly onto the bottom of the paperweight. A tiny, recessed panel had been cleanly shaved into the green felt padding. Inside, a miniature circuit board pulsed with those exact same twin red lights.
“It’s a dual-function unit,” Marco muttered, his face tightening. “It transmits the ultrasonic terror frequency into the nursery through the ventilation chase, and it streams live encrypted audio straight out of your private office.”
Someone had been listening to every word spoken in my home. Someone had been orchestrating this psychological nightmare with surgical precision.
Before I could crush the device in my fist, my encrypted personal phone buzzed in my pocket.
It wasn't a standard call. It was a restricted, satellite-routed ping.
I pulled the phone out and answered on speaker, holding it so Marco could hear every syllable. “Speak,” I commanded.
A distorted, synthesized voice crackled through the speaker, devoid of any human warmth.
“Did you like the music, Adrien? Your children have very sensitive ears. A pity you didn't notice sooner.”
May you like
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. “Who is this?”
“Does a name matter? What matters is that you spent your entire life building walls to keep enemies out, Moretti. But you forgot the oldest rule of the underworld.” The voice paused, letting out a cold, synthetic chuckle. “The wolf is already inside the fold.”
