Chapter 2 - Silent Warfare
The glow of Sebastian’s phone illuminated the dark mahogany of the dresser, casting sharp angles across his jawline. Emergency notice. The hospice protection has been challenged.
He stared at the screen, the cold fury that had driven him for fourteen months suddenly colliding with a new, chaotic reality. Audrey’s words still hung in the heavy air of the suite like smoke after a gunfight. Catherine made me promise.
Sebastian stepped into the hallway, his polished shoes silent against the thick carpet. Down the corridor, the door to the secondary bedroom clicked shut. Audrey was inside, locked behind a thin veneer of wood that could never stop a man like him, yet felt as impenetrable as a bank vault.
He dialed his waterfront attorney, Arthur Vance.
"Report," Sebastian commanded, his voice dropping into the low, dangerous frequency that usually made men tremble.
"It’s Marcus Kane," Vance said, his breath hitching over the line. "The city redevelopment board called an emergency injunction twenty minutes ago. Kane brought forward an old land deed claiming the hospice property was sold under fraudulent terms by the Whitaker estate five years ago. If we don’t counter-file by eight in the morning, the city marshal has authorization to serve an eviction order."
Sebastian’s knuckles turned white around the phone. Marcus Kane was not just a politician; he was a frontman for the Valenti syndicate, Sebastian’s primary rivals on the East Coast. If Kane pushed this, it meant the Valentis knew Audrey Whitaker was his vulnerability—or at least, his freshly minted bargaining chip.
"Assemble the legal team at the estate," Sebastian said. "And call Dante. Tell him to track Kane’s movements for the last forty-eight hours."
He ended the call, turning back to look down the hall.
The door opened softly. Audrey stood in the frame, wearing a simple cream silk robe tied tightly at her waist. Her hair was down, cascading over her shoulders in dark waves, freed from the diamond pins that had bound it during the ceremony. She looked smaller without the structured gown, but her eyes held a fierce, unyielding light.
"You got the message," she said. It wasn’t a question.
"Kane is moving on St. Jude’s," Sebastian said bluntly. "He’s using an old deed dispute."
Audrey’s breath hitched, the first true crack in her armor since she had placed her wedding ring on the dresser. "That deed is clean. My father paid off every debt on that property before he died."
"In the courtroom Kane owns, clean doesn't matter," Sebastian replied, stepping closer. "He wants to force my hand. He thinks if he presses the hospice, I’ll pull my men from the docks to protect it, leaving the northern shipping lanes exposed."
"Then let me handle Kane," Audrey said, stepping into his space, refusing to back down. "My father kept meticulous records. The original land transfer documents are stored in the hospice safe. If Kane wants to fight in court, I will give him a war he cannot win."
Sebastian let out a short, humorless laugh. "You think this is about paperwork, Audrey? This is blood. Kane doesn't want the land; he wants to break the alliance we just sealed at the altar. You stay here. My men will handle it."
"No," Audrey said, her tone absolute. "Thirty-seven elderly and terminally ill patients are in those beds. If your 'men' handle it, there will be shell casings on the lawn and my patients will die of heart failure before sunrise. I am going to the hospice."
Sebastian gripped her arm—not enough to bruise, but enough to anchor her. "You are Mrs. Ror now. You do what I say."
Audrey looked down at his hand on her wrist, then met his gaze with chilling calm. "I put the ring on the dresser, Sebastian. You married me for revenge. But if you let those people suffer to play your mob games, you prove that Catherine’s final choice was right."
May you like
The mention of his sister’s name felt like a blade slipped between his ribs. Sebastian’s grip tightened for a fraction of a second before he let her go.
"Get dressed," he growled. "We leave in five minutes."
