CHAPTER 20
Lucien
Belladonna escalates.
Small disruptions. A delayed shipment. A missing contact in Toulon.
Nothing catastrophic.
Testing.
I met with Ronan in my office.
“They’re probing our southern flank,” he says, placing photos across my desk.
“Internal breach?”
“Not confirmed, but timing suggests intelligence leak.”
My jaw tightens.
“Monitor communications. Quietly.”
“And her?” he asks.
He doesn’t need to clarify.
“She remains uninvolved.”
Ronan’s expression shifts, almost imperceptible.
“With respect, she is already involved.”
“I will handle it.”
His silence tells me he doubts that.
After he leaves, I pour myself a drink and stare out over the estate grounds.
Somewhere in this house is a vulnerability.
And I do not tolerate vulnerabilities.