Chapter 5
The silence in the study grew suffocating. Audrey instinctively stepped closer to the leather armchair, placing a protective hand on the back of it, shielding Felix from the tension radiating off the men.
Bastian stared at the evidence bag in Silas’s hand. He showed no outward signs of fear, only a terrifying, arctic calm. “How did a civilian like Celine acquire military-grade synthetic aconitine?”
“She didn’t do this alone, boss,” Silas replied grimly. “We checked her phone. Burner app. She received a text five minutes before dinner started. It just said: ‘Is the gift delivered?’ The trace bounced off three different satellites, but the origin signature matches the Moretti syndicate.”
Bastian’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did they really think taking me out would leave my territory completely undefended?”
“I think they were counting on the chaos, sir,” Silas said. “If you dropped dead of a sudden heart attack at your birthday dinner, the family would fracture trying to name a successor. Celine would have had the perfect cover as the grieving widow.”
Audrey felt a chill run down her spine. The sheer scale of the betrayal was staggering. She looked down at Felix, who was now dozing in the oversized armchair, blissfully unaware that the woman he was supposed to call stepmother had just tried to orchestrate his father’s assassination.
“Are my lieutenants securing the perimeter, Silas?” Bastian asked, turning away from the desk to look out the heavily armored window of his study.
“Every gate is locked down. We have men on the roof and roaming the grounds,” Silas assured him. “But if the Morettis know the hit failed, they might not wait. They might push the timeline up.”
“Have you moved my men into defensive positions inside the house?” Bastian inquired, his voice dropping an octave.
“Working on it now. What do you want to do with Celine?” Silas asked.
“Is she still crying in the holding room?” Bastian asked, turning back around. The loose strands of hair on his forehead gave him a dangerous, untamed look.
“Screaming, mostly,” Silas corrected. “Saying they forced her into it. Saying she wants to talk to you.”
“Would you keep Audrey and Felix in this room and lock the door behind me?” Bastian asked, adjusting his suit jacket with a sharp, controlled tug.
“Of course, boss,” Silas nodded, moving to stand by the heavy oak door.
Audrey felt a sudden spike of anxiety. “Mr. Wells?”
Bastian paused at the door, glancing back at her. “Yes, Audrey?”
“Please be careful,” she whispered, her hands nervously smoothing the fabric of her white apron. “Aconitine isn't their only weapon. If they penetrated your inner circle, they might have breached your security, too.”
Bastian studied her face for a long moment. The soft, rounded contours of her cheeks were pale, but her eyes were fiercely intelligent. “Are you worried about my safety, Audrey, or are you worried about what happens to you if I don’t come back?”
“Can't it be both, sir?” Audrey replied, matching his gaze.
Bastian let out a slow, measured breath. “Will you watch over my son until I return?”
May you like
“With my life, sir.”
Bastian gave a barely perceptible nod, then slipped out of the study. The heavy door clicked shut, and Silas immediately engaged the deadbolt. Audrey was left in the dim light of the banker’s lamp, listening to the soft breathing of the sleeping boy, waiting for a war to begin.
