Chapter 33 Flaws in the Empire
Gregor's POV~
The safe house was heavy with mildew and betrayal, my hands shaking as I looked at the laptop screen, Natasha’s leaked emails tearing Valenticia apart in the newsfeeds of Seryne. Her private writings, forged, cast her as a disgrace on Clawford’s memory. Natasha’s plan was exquisite, carried out with precision and ruthlessness, and for a moment, I admired her. The hacked Clawford server, its data was her handiwork, and it was drawing in tighter around my cousin's neck.
Natasha’s heels clicked as she moved into the room, wearing a red coat. “Clara’s in the van,” she said, tossing a tablet onto the table, a grainy feed playing of Clara, gagged and shivering, in the back of a moving vehicle. “Valenticia’s down at the dock’s wasting her time. ”
I reclined, my fingers steepled, in front of me to hide the shake in my hands. “Very good,” I replied, my voice cold. “We push harder. I need a press conference tomorrow. We can blow the lid off of Valenticia’s ‘crimes’, and put her in the ground for good.”
Natasha's eyes sparkled, and she curled her lips. “Smart, but let’s rub it in. Set Stefan Myles up for the data leak. Their alliance will crumble.”
Her wickedness matched mine. "Make the call," I said in a growl. “Make it airtight.”
She nodded, her fingers flying across the tablet. Turning to my laptop, I wired money to Nexus Ventures, Galden’s cover for taking apart Clawford... It was a lifeline of a transaction, a way of buying me time under threat of what Galden could unleash, but another file in the Nexus server drew my attention—a coded file that belonged to “H. Vorne.” One of her notes called her a “true partner,” a cryptic clue that disturbed my mind. Was she Galden’s endgame, a shadow player behind the scenes? The question was disturbingly on my mind as I closed the file for another time.
“We have to get moving,” I said and stood as the damp walls of the safehouse began to feel oppressive. We need to get to Galden's office immediately to finalise the narrative.”
We drove to Galden’s office, a shiny glass and steel tower overlooking Seryne’s waterfront. The dark marble and chrome private suite was a stronghold, the city’s skyline sprawling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Natasha took out and spread paper on the desk, which was her newest ploy, a fake contract “signed” by Valenticia to sell Clawford’s AI patents to Lovtan Industries, a rival conglomerate.
“This is going to ruin her,” Natasha said, with excitement in her voice. “The board will see it as treason. Clawford’s hers no more.”
Valenticia would be a laughing stock to the entire company, and the board would look to me as the last Clawford remaining. I could see the press conference before me, with a steady voice, the cameras flashing whilst delivering my heartfelt piece. “Valenticia’s betrayal has hurt us, but I will rebuild. Our grandmother's legacy.” I smirked at the thought. “Leak it tonight,” I demanded, my tone harsh. “No delays.”
Natasha nodded, but her eyes narrowed. I turned to the laptop and watched the security server of Nexus, watching the money be transferred before a new email pinged in my inbox, unmarked, and urgent. It was Marcus, Valenticia’s attorney, a man whose loyalty to her was unbreakable. The subject: Nexus Exposed. My blood ran cold when I opened it — a folder of Nexus Ventures’ shell companies, bank transfers, and a direct link to me, signed with my initials. Marcus had dirt, and enough of it to ruin me with.
“Natasha,” I spat out in a low, venomous voice. Marcus has Nexus intel. Silence him. Tonight.”
Her smile was predatory, her fingers already tapping out a text to a contact. “It’s as good as done,” she replied, too eager in a way that gave me the creeps. I stowed the laptop, and my thoughts drove me mad. Marcus’s proof was solid and the allies of Valenticia were encircling him. The press conference, the fake contract, the framing of Stefan — had all of it better hold or Golden would come crashing down on me. His absence these past few days was very strange and untimely, that last call requiring Valenticia’s death still echoing in my mind.
As we entered my office, my phone vibrated in my pocket, killing the mood. A video played—me and Natasha in the safehouse, organising Clara’s transfer. I could hear every word overheard, with a caption in bold white outlined with black. "Galden sees all" I felt my breath catch and I thought back to the drone footage from weeks before flickering in my mind, with its glinting lens
I turned to Natasha, my voice low. “Who sent this? Who’s watching us?”
Her grin strayed, her gaze darting into the shadows. “Not me,” she said as she shrugged her shoulders, but her voice was too slick, her allegiance a lie I could never prove. I reached for her arm about to demand an explanation when the door to the office clicked closed and locked with a heavy thud. Then was the voice of a female, strange, blaring from the concealed speaker that broke the silence, “You’re outplayed, Clawford,.” she sneered. I stared at Natasha, unable to hide my fear, then the lights went out and we were both left in the dark, as footsteps sounded behind me, heavy and slow.