Chapter 9
Michael Trent was seventy-four.
Walked with a cane.
Still had better eyes than half my younger men.
He entered my office and refused the chair.
“I’ve sat enough.”
Fair.
“What lie?”
He placed a folded sheet on my desk.
The seven captains had been told the livestream was voluntary.
Ada was supposedly participating in a loyalty demonstration.
I stared.
“They thought she agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she?”
“Sebastian said you both wanted to expose weak reactions.”
I almost laughed.
Even conspirators need moral cover.
Michael continued.
They paid for access believing they were observing staged pressure.
Then the feed started.
Ada was clearly terrified.
Some realized immediately.
Others did not care.
That explained why viewer count dropped after my challenge.
Seven left.
One returned.
Sebastian.
“Which stayed longest?”
Michael gave me names.
Three disconnected when Ada cried.
Two remained until I entered.
One stayed through the fight.
One unknown private terminal.
Probably Anthony Bellini, Sebastian’s oldest ally.
Different guilt.
Important.
“Why come now?”
Michael looked tired.
“Because your mother warned me.”
Again.
“She told me Sebastian would eventually turn the chair into a test of loyalty.”
“Did you believe her?”
“No.”
Honest.
“Why?”
“She was young.”
My jaw tightened.
“She was forty-six.”
He smiled sadly.
“To us, young.”
There it was.
Age as credential.
He had dismissed a woman because old men were still speaking.
Now he looked ashamed.
“I’m tired of being right too late.”
I understood.
So was I.
Michael gave me the names and offered his resignation.
I refused for now.
“You don’t get to resign before consequences are decided.”
He almost smiled.
“Your mother would like that.”
Everyone kept saying that.
Then he told me something more important.
Sebastian’s Phase Two had a time.
Tonight.
Eight o’clock.
Seven captains would refuse the next major Bellini order publicly.
Except now one had defected.
The plan was cracked.
I had a choice.
Stop it.
Or let the others reveal themselves.
I chose the second.
May you like
Not because I liked drama.
Because sometimes people need enough rope to show exactly what they were willing to do.
