7. CHAPTER 6 #2
“I’ll have my office put Demola through in an hour.” I said, now looking at Severin. “Send me the latest brief beforehand. I want to see exactly how badly he’s failed before I listen to him lie about it.”
Severin’s mouth tilted. “As you wish.”
We made our way toward the exit. Elias fell into step beside me, already doing the maths in his head as always.
“Two oil dynasties. A runaway bride. Unhinged brothers. An incompetent lover.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt. “There are too many variables, Orion. Too many loose ends.”
I thought of the new contract clauses my lawyers were drafting. The revisions that would enforce my claim and make running impossible in the future. I didn’t bother mentioning any of that to the group.
“It will end the way I decide it does.”
Julian laughed delightfully. “And they say romance is dead.”
“In our world,” I said, reaching for my phone as it buzzed again, “romance was never alive to begin with.”
Demola’s number came through just after I’d washed my face and hands and stepped into my office. I pulled up Severin’s latest brief on my laptop. It included a map, coastal radius, and time stamps.
I scanned through it before answering the call on a second ring.
“Mr Fernández.”
There was a pause on the other end, long enough for me to hear his breathing. It wasn’t the steady breathing of a man in control. It was the strained sound of a man trying to maintain dignity while everything collapsed.
“Orion,” he said at last. “Thank you for taking this. I—” He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology.”
I leaned back in my chair, keeping my voice neutral. “For what, exactly?”
Another pause. The lie was trying to form again. I could almost hear him reaching for it. Then he sighed.
“My daughter,” he said, lower now. “Léonie… she is not unwell.”
Not a lie.
I flicked the screen of my monitor.
“She has gone missing,” he continued. “She left before dawn three days ago. With…” The word stuck, humiliation thickening it. “She left with a boy. His name is Yves Dupont-Dupré. He works in the French ambassador’s office.”
I glanced at the still image on my screen—Léonie sitting on a pavement outside the Corsica rental catching the afternoon sun. She looked like she belonged in the sunlight more than she belonged in any man’s war.
Neither my face nor my voice changed.
“Missing,” I repeated, as if I’d never heard the word before in my life. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Purposefully ignoring the part where he mentioned Yves—whatever his last name is.
Demola exhaled shakily, relief flooding the space where he’d expected judgment.
“We have deployed men,” he rushed on. “My sons are searching. Debo is—” He stopped himself, then corrected. “All of them are involved. We will bring her home. This will be handled internally.”
Internally.
Right. Like I didn’t already know exactly what she had for breakfast at a roadside café yesterday. I swiped the screen and watched her sitting and staring at a horizon that would not save her.
“I see,” I said. Calm. Indifferent.
He tried to sound firm again. “We will recover her. She will be corrected. There will be consequences. This…this lapse will not affect our commitment to the truce.”
It took effort not to smile.
Commitment to the truce.
He wasn’t calling because he was worried about his daughter. He was calling because he was worried about the damage to his reputation, and the leverage that came with the alliance. It reeked of desperation.
“Of course,” I murmured. “Tell me how I can help.”
He hesitated. You could hear it, the calculation. The fear of appearing weak. Hoping that I'd offer resources without him having to ask.
“I wouldn’t impose,” he said quickly. “It is our shame. Our responsibility. We can manage it.”
“You can,” I agreed.
The agreement was clearly unexpected. The line fell into a strained silence before a slow exhale followed, confirming my response had landed poorly. I hadn’t offered help or reassurance like he’d expected. Only the cold understanding that whatever happened next would belong entirely to him.
An audible permission to fail alone.
He clearly hated it. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t force my hand.
Demola immediately filled the silence.
“We will keep this quiet,” he assured me. “Nothing will reach the press. No public scandal. You have my word.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said, voice smooth. “My father’s health isn’t suited for surprises.”
“Yes… yes. Of course.” He sounded almost frantic now. “Orion, I assure you, Léonie will return, and the engagement will proceed as planned.”
Not as planned.
I didn't say a word, letting the pause stretch just long enough to remind him who he was speaking to.
“When she returns,” I said evenly, “we will revisit the documents. Circumstances change. The contracts should reflect the new reality of things.”
I could hear the hitch in his breath.
“Certainly,” he replied, eagerly. “Whatever you require.”
Didn’t take much to make him bend.
We ended the call with the kind of false pleasantries men exchange right before they start digging graves.
When the line went dead, I sat still for a moment. The truth wasn’t new to me, I’d known it before he admitted it, but hearing him say it felt like a door finally opening. Now I could walk through.
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Severin: Fernández entourage split. Twins heading toward Marseille. Debo’s team moving north, towards a different route. They seem smarter than the rest.
I stared at the message, then typed back.
Me: I just spoke to Demola. He finally told me she’s missing. Keep all intel with Stratum only. No leaks, no sharing with the Fernández family regardless of how desperate they get.
A reply came back within seconds.
Severin: Even if it slows retrieval?
Me: They created this mess. Let them work for their truce.
I’m not in the business of making weak men feel competent.
Severin: Understood. Full blackout. Our eyes only.
I set the phone down, a deep heavy satisfaction spreading through my chest.
He’d lied to me. His daughter had run. His sons were stumbling across a landscape I already owned, chasing a girl on borrowed time.
My gaze turned to the screen.
She was still there, still a moving dot in a radius Severin had mapped down to kilometres. A human being her own family called a lapse, an embarrassment, a problem to correct.
Whatever they did to bring her back, they would do efficiently, and without mercy.
I wasn't being cruel for cruelty's sake. The goal was making them prove their commitment.
The harder they worked to retrieve her, the more they would prove they still deserved the alliance.
I pulled up another picture of her, skipping past all the ones with the boyfriend in frame. Noticed she hadn’t worn her hair in a high ponytail since two days ago. I’d liked the way it framed her face.
Focus Orion.
I swiped to another of her smiling at someone. I didn’t care who.
Another of her walking down a road. She looked peaceful. Still boring… but peaceful.
It was unfortunate she couldn’t keep that peace.
It already belonged to me.