Chapter 5 - The True Mastermind
The ballroom was dead silent, save for the rhythmic, metallic screech echoing from three hundred mobile phones.
On the massive projector screen, Veronica Cruz smiled calmly at the camera. She reached out, stroked Rose’s hair, and then looked directly into the lens, locking eyes with Rory across the hundred miles separating Manhattan from the Hamptons.
“Hello, Rory,” Veronica’s voice came through the ballroom sound system, amplified and crystal clear.
Julian Vane stared at the screen, his mouth hanging open. “What... what is this? Who is she? She’s just a maid!”
“Shut up, Julian,” Rory snarled, his hand still clamped around Julian’s collar. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Veronica. Explain yourself.”
“There’s nothing to explain, boss,” Veronica said, her voice dripping with an icy, professional amusement. She leaned back against the sofa, crossing her legs. “You spent millions tracking down mafia syndicates, foreign hackers, and corporate rivals. You broke Julian’s little toys, and you thought you found the monster.”
She tapped the silver remote in her hand.
“You were looking at the wrong family, Rory.”
On the screen, Veronica reached up and peeled away the neat bun of dark hair, letting long, platinum-blonde waves tumble down her shoulders. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and slid them onto her face. The humble, quiet housemaid was gone. In her place sat a woman of terrifying elegance and authority.
“Victoria Cruz,” Rory breathed, the name hitting him like a physical blow. “The ghost of the Berlin syndicate. The daughter of Viktor Cruz.”
“And the older sister of the man you executed in Prague ten years ago for skimming the family treasury,” Victoria finished, her smile vanishing into a cold, dead stare. “You thought you wiped out our entire bloodline, Rory. You thought you could take everything my father built and walk away clean.”
In the ballroom, the socialites pressed themselves flat against the walls, terrified to move a muscle. Julian Vane, realizing he was trapped in a war far bigger than his corporate sabotage, tried to slink away. Marcus’s heavy hand slammed down on his shoulder, pinning him to the marble floor.
“You didn’t touch my daughters,” Rory said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal growl. “If a single hair on their heads is harmed—”
“Oh, relax, Rory. I’m a professional, not a monster,” Victoria laughed softly through the speakers. “The teddy bear wasn’t meant to kill them. It was a proof of concept. I needed to see how long it took for you to panic, how many resources you’d waste chasing Julian’s little corporate lapdogs, and how vulnerable you’d become when your fortress was compromised from the inside.”
She looked down at Lily and Rose, who were happily chewing their pancakes, completely unaware that the woman sitting beside them was a syndicate assassin holding a dead-man switch.
“They’re sweet girls,” Victoria continued. “It would be a shame if something happened to them because their father couldn't keep his empire in order.”
“Name your price,” Rory said, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his jacket. “Money, territory, shipping lanes—take it all. Just leave them out of this.”
“Money?” Victoria scoffed softly. “Rory, I don’t want your money. I want your crown. And I want you to watch me take it piece by piece.”
The screen flickered, went black, and then displayed a countdown timer: 48:00:00.
Then the transmission cut.
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Rory stood frozen for three seconds. Then, with a roar of pure, unadulterated fury, he threw Julian Vane across a glass table, shattering it into a thousand glittering shards.
“Get the cars,” Rory bellowed to his enforcers, his eyes blazing with madness. “We’re going home. Now.”
