Mateo’s grin widened, the kind of expression a cat wears when it finds a new hole to dig into. "Montclair," he repeated. "Sounds like old money. What’s the catch, Cat? Usually, you handle your own pests."
"Why would I dirty my hands when I have you," Catalina whispered. "And she’s caught Julian’s eye. Or worse — she’s caught his interest. I don’t care which it is. I want her na erased from every social register, every business deal, and every conversation in this city."
Mateo leaned against a stone pillar, crossing his ankles. "You want her social death? Or the kind of death that doesn’t leave a ghost?"
Catalina didn’t flinch. "I want her to realize that staying in this city is a death sentence in itself. Break her spirit. Ruin her reputation. Find out what she’s hiding — because everyone is hiding sothing — and pull the thread until she unspools."
"And if she doesn’t break?" Mateo asked.
"Then you do what you did in Madrid. You make the ’misunderstanding’ permanent."
Mateo pushed off the pillar, giving her a shallow, mocking bow. "Consider the hunt started. I’ll need a file, a photo, and a place to start. Where does our little butterfly spend her ti?"
....
"Sir, your coffee is here."
Chairman Grant didn’t look up right away. He kept writing in a small black book, his pen moving steadily across the page.
Trudy entered the room quietly, set the tray on the table, and slipped back out without another word.
Grant allowed himself a small smile. He was satisfied. Julian had finally caught the traitor who had been leaking information from the company.
A few minutes later, the heavy double doors of the study swung open. Grant didn’t bother to turn around. He didn’t have to, Julian was the only person with the authority to walk in without an invitation.
"You took your ti," he said. "I hope the bastard is sweating."
"He’s ready to talk, father. I thought you might want to interrogate him yourself."
Grant closed his notebook and slowly turned his leather chair to face his son fully, a sharp smile breaking through his cold expression.
"Let’s go."
An hour later, Julian and the Chairman arrived at a garage that was abandoned yet ticulously kept. They reached an elevator at the far end, A man in a tailored suit stepped aside as they approached. Julian swiped a black keycard across the reader, and with a soft chi, the lift began to descend.
The elevator doors opened quietly. Outside was a hallway made of cold concrete with bright, white lights. The air slled like tal and felt very cold.
At the end of the hall, a heavy tal door was partly open. Julian walked out first and led his father toward the room.
They reached the door and Julian pushed it open. Inside, a man nad Marcus was sitting in a chair with his hands tied behind his back. Marcus looked ssy and scared. When he saw Grant’s shadow on the floor, his breathing beca fast and shaky.
Grant walked to the middle of the room and stopped. He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at Marcus as if he were a broken machine.
Marcus had been with the firm for twelve years. He was a man Grant had toasted at weddings and Christmas galas. The betrayal didn’t sting; it proved that everyone had a price, and Marcus was foolish enough to think he could afford the cost of double-crossing him.
"Chairman... I am sorry..." Marcus whispered, his voice shaking. "I can explain. Soone forced to do it. They threatened my daughter."
Grant pulled over a chair and sat down facing Marcus. He looked very calm.
"Marcus," Grant said softly, "don’t bore with a script from a low-budget thriller. We both know you sold the plans because your gambling debts in Macau finally caught up with you."
Marcus turned very pale.
"Now," Grant said, leaning closer. "Who bought that information? I know Vanguard Industries has the data, but I need a na. If you tell the truth, maybe I will not send pieces of you back ho to your daughter in a gift box."
Marcus trembled, his zip-tied hands straining against the plastic. He looked at the floor, unable to et the Chairman’s icy gaze.
"It was... Arthur Reed," Marcus whispered. "He approached six months ago. He knew about the debts. He said if I didn’t hand over the information, he’d make sure my creditors found before the week was out."
Grant didn’t look surprised. He simply tapped his hand against his chin, a small, dangerous smile forming on his lips.
"Arthur Reed," Grant repeated softly. "A man who thinks he can build an empire on the scraps of mine."
He walked out and Julian followed.
"Do you know this Arthur Reed father."
"Yes," Grant said. "Reed is the clean face of a much dirtier operation. He uses mob enforcers to pressure employees like Marcus into stealing proprietary data. He doesn’t care about building a company; he auctions off stolen secrets to whoever pays the most. Whether it’s foreign interests or rival conglorates, the man is a vulture who sells to the highest bidder."
"The problem for Arthur," Grant said as the elevator doors opened, "is that he forgot who he was stealing from. He thinks he’s playing a corporate ga. He’s forgotten that in this family, we don’t file lawsuits. We settle debts."
Chairman Grant looked at Julian. "If Reed wants to play in the underworld, we’ll show him exactly how deep it goes. He’s used to being the predator. Let’s see how he handles being the prey."
....
Lyvana walked through the quiet halls of the hospital after her eting with Dr. Aris.
When she reached the underground garage, she heard footsteps behind her.
She didn’t look back, but she moved faster. Her heart started to race. The footsteps behind her sped up too. She could feel two n closing the distance.
Panic started to rise in her chest. She turned a corner quickly, trying to reach her car, and suddenly bumped into a tall, solid figure.
"Ah!" Lyvana gasped, pulling back in terror.
She looked up and saw a familiar face. It was Marco.
"Marco... it’s you."
Marco’s eyes shifted past her towards the two n who had been following her. As soon as they saw Marco’s face and his hand moving toward his jacket, they imdiately turned around and walked away into the darkness.
"Are you alright, ma’am?"
Lyvana nodded, though her heart was still beating fast.
"I... I think so," she whispered, clutching her bag tight. "Thank you.
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