Chapter 12
"Voss’s background check has been heavily scrubbed from all international databases," Clara noted, swiping through the encrypted tablet on her desk. She looked up at her husband, completely unfazed by the potential danger of the foreign warlord. "He is operating as a ghost. But ghosts leave traces when they attempt to establish supply lines in our territory."
Vincent offered a rare, dark smile, immensely proud of the sharp, analytical mind his wife possessed. "It is a desperate move," Vincent agreed softly. "Voss controls a faction of rogue mercenaries in Eastern Europe. He was cut off from our maritime ports a decade ago. I suspect he intends to use your highly publicized charity gala this weekend as a stage to demand a ransom and force a hostile takeover of our logistics network."
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Clara’s jaw tightened. The thought of a rogue syndicate leader attempting to terrorize her foundation ignited a fierce, protective anger within her. She stood up, smoothing the fabric of her elegant day dress. "Are we going to cancel the exhibition, Vincent?" she asked, her American accent crisp.
"Does an apex predator cancel a hunt when the prey willingly walks into the open field?" Vincent inquired, stepping around the desk to pull her securely against his chest. He kissed her forehead, his deeply masculine presence a fortress of absolute safety. "Let him attempt his ambush. We will welcome him into the light of day, and then we will show him exactly what lives in the dark." The syndicate prepared for a silent, invisible war. The Hale family would not cower in their mansion. They would face the threat head-on.
