Chapter 7
The heavy mahogany doors of the dining room clicked shut, sealing the elite members of the syndicate inside. The polite facade of the engagement dinner had completely evaporated, replaced by the grim reality of a war council. The bright, luminous light from the crystal chandeliers now felt like harsh interrogation lamps.
Leander Cole sat at the head of the white damask table, the confiscated smartphone resting beside his crystal water glass. He slowly poured himself a finger of amber liquid from a decanter, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
"Ethan," Leander said softly, his deep voice carrying effortlessly down the long table.
Ethan Cole jumped slightly in his ivory upholstered chair. The man was sweating profusely, terrified that his sister’s actions had marked his entire bloodline for execution. "Yes, Boss."
"Did your sister possess the technical expertise to fabricate a biometric vocal print?" Leander asked, taking a slow sip of his drink.
"No, sir," Ethan answered quickly, shaking his head. "She barely knew how to operate the estate's security system. Someone had to have supplied the audio files to her."
"Do we have a traitor within our technical division?" Leander mused aloud, turning his cold, perceptive eyes toward his chief of intelligence, a quiet man sitting near the center of the table. "Or did she purchase the forgery from an outside contractor?"
"I will pull the communication logs from the estate servers immediately, Boss," the intelligence chief promised, already reaching for his own encrypted tablet. "We will trace the origin of the file on her phone."
"Will you?" Leander asked smoothly. He reached out and picked up the smartphone. "Are you assuming the device is not heavily encrypted?"
Leander tossed the phone down the table. It slid smoothly across the polished wood, stopping directly in front of the intelligence chief.
"Break the encryption," Leander commanded softly. "I want the name of the sender, and I want the intended recipient list. Did she intend to broadcast this to the ruling families to destabilize my command?"
While the lieutenants began scrambling to execute his orders, Leander stood up from the table. He walked over to the tall, gilt-framed mirrors lining the carved walnut paneling, staring at his own reflection. The extremely short stubble on his jawline made him look incredibly severe in the golden light.
He had protected his son tonight, but the realization that his enemies had infiltrated the very heart of his home burned like acid in his veins.
"Marcus," Leander called out without turning around.
"Yes, Boss," the security chief replied instantly.
"Are the perimeter guards at maximum alert?" Leander asked.
"We doubled the patrols the moment Marielle was escorted off the property," Marcus confirmed. "The estate is locked down."
"Is it?" Leander asked quietly. He slowly turned away from the mirror, his dark eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "If they can slip a fabricated audio file into my parlor, what else have they slipped through the gates?"
A sudden, chilling realization hit the room.
"Boss," Marcus started, his face paling slightly. "You think they planted physical devices? Bugs? Explosives?"
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"Are we waiting to find out?" Leander countered coldly. "Initiate a full, destructive sweep of the entire estate. Tear the walls down if you have to. I want this house sanitized by sunrise."
Leander buttoned his tailored suit jacket and began walking toward the private elevator. The interrogation was over; it was time to check on the only two people in the house he currently trusted.
