Chapter 28 Threads of Treason
Gregor's POV~
The drone footage played on a replay in my mind as I sat in the safehouse, its moldy walls suffocating, the laptop screen dark but seared with the image of me on Clawford Corporation’s rooftop, Natasha’s venomous smile beside me as we schemed against Valenticia. The drone had captured it all, exposing my every word, my betrayal. Vance’s treachery, slipping files to a hooded figure in that alley, had broken my trust, and now this footage threatened to bury me. My pulse bit fast, a traitor’s anthem, as I fought to hold myself together.
Victor Galden’s call had come at dawn, his voice cold through the phone. “Valenticia’s still a problem, Clawford,” he snarled. “Remove her, or I leak your Nexus dealings. You’ll be seen as a traitor which you are.”
Galden’s ruthlessness was legendary, his empire built on the bones of those who’d crossed him. I’d funneled millions to Nexus Ventures, his machine to dismantle the Clawfords, believing it would crown me king. But I was his pawn, and Valenticia’s succession, my failure. “She’s suspended,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “The audit’s broken her. It’s done.”
“Promises aren’t enough,” he snapped. “I want her gone. Don’t make me act.”
The line died, and I threw the phone across the room, its shatter a pale echo of my crumbling control. Natasha’s entered, her heels clicking on the safehouse’s cracked floor. She tossed a tablet on the table, with a video playing. Clara, a Clawford loyalist, bound and gagged, her eyes pleading. Natasha’s voice hissed, “Step down, or she pays.”
“Impressive,” I said, hiding my unease. “Valenticia’s breaking.”
Natasha leaned against the wall, her eyes cold. “She’s done, Gregor. The board’s tearing her apart.”
Her cunning attitude was impressive and I admired that, though it was scary. She could betray me if Galden offers her a sweeter prize. “Stay focused,” I warned, my voice low. “No mistakes.”
She laughed. Her laughter was sharp and dismissive. “Don’t patronize me. I’m in control.”
I turned away, memories clawing at me. Rosanna’s voice was filled with praise for my cousin. Valenticia’s mother had been a pain in my father's youth. “She’s Clawford’s soul,” she’d said, dismissing my father, the eldest, the planner. That rejection had driven me to Galden’s deal years ago. He’d offered a throne for my loyalty, and I’d traded my blood—leaking secrets, wiring funds, betraying my name. The memory fueled my resolve to crush Valenticia and claim what was mine.
Vance’s betrayal demanded blood. He’d been my loyalist, my shadow, but his double-dealing was a betrayal I couldn’t forgive. I called Kessler, a fixer whose name was whispered in Seryne’s darkest corners. “kill Vance,” I ordered, my voice ice. “No traces.”
Kessler’s reply was firm and cold. “Twenty-four hours. Clean.”
I hung up, my mind on the audit’s triumph. Natasha’s forged emails had branded Valenticia a thief, and Larson’s suspension had shattered her. The board was mine, ready for a press conference to “expose” her fraud, labeling me as Clawford’s savior. But Galden. Had he sent the drone? The question gnawed at me. If it were him it meant that I needed to move, to outrun his reach.
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The warehouse meeting was set for dusk. Kessler stood in the alley, his scarred face unreadable, his eyes void. “Vance is handled,” he said, tossing a burner phone onto a crate. “No witnesses.”
Relief washed over me before he spoke again. “Stefan Myles is trouble. New Dream’s digging into Nexus—bank records, shells. He’s close to you.”
My jaw clenched. Stefan, that relentless bastard. His marriage announcement with Valenticia, blazing across Seryne’s headlines, was a power play, merging New Dream and Clawford against me. “Flood New Dream with false data,” I said.
Kessler shrugged. “It’ll slow them, not stop them. Myles has a hacker, Gideon. Hospitalized, but he’s been feeding Valenticia intel.”
Gideon. The name ignited rage in me. I turned to Natasha, her presence an unwelcome thing I had to deal with in the meantime. “Target Rosanna,” I ordered. “A scandal—forged records, anything to break Valenticia’s allies.”
Natasha’s smile was venomous. “I’ll tie her to a dirty deal. She’ll look as guilty as her granddaughter.”
I nodded, envisioning Rosanna’s fall, the final crack in Valenticia’s foundation. The press conference would be my stage, a public execution of the heiress’s legacy. I’d rehearsed the words: “Valenticia’s betrayal has wounded Clawford. I will heal it.” The board would cheer, Rosanna would break, and Galden would see my strength. But the drone footage haunted me, a reminder that my empire was fragile and exposed.
I stepped out of the warehouse, my car was parked outside, its black shell a mirror to my resolve. I got inside and set the GPS for Clawford Corporation. The press conference was tomorrow, my chance to bury Valenticia. I could see it. Cameras flashing, my voice steady, the board’s nods sealing my ascent. But the GPS beeped, the screen glitching, the route shifting to an unknown address in Seryne’s underbelly. My breath caught, the drone’s image flashing in my mind. I jabbed the screen, but it froze, as the coordinates locked.
The car accelerated. I slammed the brakes, but the pedal was dead, useless. Panic erupted, my hands turning as Seryne’s streets blurred into streaks of neon and shadow. The radio crackled, a distorted voice slithering through, “You’re out of time, Clawford.”
I was terrified. What the hell was going on? The car was a trap, its speed was a death sentence. Streetlights flickered, the city an image of my unraveling empire. An alley loomed, a narrow alley filled with darkness, and there, against the headlights. A figure stood, cloaked in shadow, a gun raised. I felt my heart stop, shock and fear colliding as the car hurtled forward, the brakes still unresponsive, driving toward the alley where the figure waited, with the gun raised.